


The Road After Imladris

by losto_vae_mellon_nin



Series: The Road After Imladris [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle Scenes, Elves, Elvish, Eriador, F/M, Gen, Gondor, Middle Earth, Mild Blood, Post-The hobbit, Pre-Lord of The Rings, Rivendell | Imladris, Rohan, Sindarin, Sindarin with translations, Wizards, middle-earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 35,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25306543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losto_vae_mellon_nin/pseuds/losto_vae_mellon_nin
Summary: Imladris, or Rivendell, the house of Elrond Half-elven, being known as one of the last Elven-homes of Middle-earth, was a home for many refugees. One of those refugees was very important in helping to fight one of the servants of the Great Evil, although he did not know that yet.orAragorn's adventures after leaving from Rivendell to go into the wild.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Arwen Undómiel, Aragorn | Estel & Elladan, Aragorn | Estel & Elladan & Elrohir, Aragorn | Estel & Elrohir, Aragorn | Estel & Elrond Peredhel, Aragorn | Estel & Gandalf | Mithrandir, Aragorn | Estel & Gilraen, Aragorn | Estel & Glorfindel, Aragorn | Estel & Halbarad, Aragorn | Estel & Legolas Greenleaf, Aragorn | Estel & Original Male Character(s), Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Celeborn/Galadriel | Artanis
Series: The Road After Imladris [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138730
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Aragorn, Son of Arathorn

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not lay claim on any of J.R.R Tolkien's characters.  
> My original characters are the following: Sadron, Calanon, Elgaborn, Gwedhiel, Talbot Hinton, Grimbold, Eldacar, Beleg and Revion.

Imladris, or Rivendell, the house of Elrond Half-elven, being known as one of the last Elven-homes of Middle-earth, was a home for many refugees. One of those refugees was very important in helping to fight one of the servants of the Great Evil, although he did not know that yet.

Estel had been walking along the path in Imladris' gardens when an Elf, one of Master Elrond's personal servants, caught up with him.

Upon reaching him, the Elf bowed his head, "My lord, Master Elrond wants you to meet him in his study."

The Elf and Man quickly walked through the gardens and came upon the Last Homely House. Estel followed the Elf up the stairs, soon reaching Elrond's study.

" _Le fael, Sadron_ ," said Lord Elrond and the Elf bowed, leaving the study and closing the door after him. _(Thank you, Sadron)_

"Estel, my sons have told me about your latest adventure, and I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. You have shown great courage for a mortal Man."

"Thank you, my Lord," Estel smiled.

"But it is not the only reason I called you here," the Elf continued. "For as of late, Mordor has been showing signs of activity, and there are rumors that a Great Evil has once again awoken in the East. 

"In view of recent events, I have decided to tell you about your true heritage. As you know, your mother Gilraen came to this valley with you eighteen years ago, when you were barely two years of age, seeking refuge after your father had been slain by an arrow that pierced his eye when he was hunting Orcs with my sons. When she arrived and I took you in, your mother requested to keep your true name secret, so I named you Estel, hope of your people."

The Man's mind was racing, different thoughts and theories whirring around in his brain.

"I can almost see you racking your brain from over here, Estel," laughed the Elven-lord merrily and started walking.

Elrond beckoned the man to follow him and they stepped further into the study, entering a room Estel had never seen before. 

The walls of the room were tall and lined with white, lean pillars. In the middle of the room stood a pedestal, and the Sun was shining on it through a great window. Other than that, there was no other source of light in the room, save for candles on the walls, which were unlit during daytime.

Estel came up to the pedestal and saw the remnants of what once had been a great longsword. He gazed at the shards and wonder came upon him, for he felt great power coming off the ancient sword.

"This is Narsil, the sword of Elendil, and the sword that Isildur used to cut the Ring of Power from Sauron's hand during the War of the Last Alliance," Elrond's voice boomed in the great hall and Sun shined brightly on the sword. "This is the sword of your ancestor, Estel, for your true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur, Elendil's son of Gondor. Long has your true name been hidden from you, but now, in the light of recent events, it is time for you to know your real identity."

Aragorn's eyes shone as his fingers lightly grazed the hilt of the sword. They closed upon the grip and he held the weapon in front of him, examining it. Still holding the sword, the man looked at Lord Elrond, who was smiling at him proudly.

"But that is not all I want to give you," continued the Elf, walking to a nearby table and opening a drawer. He took out a curious ring. The ring had two serpents intertwined with eyes made of green jewels. The serpents met beneath a crown of golden flowers that one upheld and one devoured.

"This, Aragorn, is the Ring of Barahir, that was once given to your ancestor Barahir by King Felagund in reward for saving his life in Dagor Bragollach, fourth of the great battles of the War of Jewels, and the end of the siege of Angband. Wear it with honour, as it was once worn by your ancestors."

Elrond walked back to Aragorn and handed him the ring. The man gingerly put the sword down on the pedestal and accepted it, putting it onto his pointer finger.

"Great perils await you, son of Arathorn, but if you survive them, you will achieve greatness, and the King shall rule once again over his Kingdom," Elrond declared. 

Aragorn's eyes fell upon the Sceptre of Annúminas, the sceptre of Elendil.

"The Sceptre of Annúminas I give you not, for you have not come into the right to possess it yet."

"I thank you for telling me this, my Lord."

"Let us go now, Aragorn, and leave this room for now," said Lord Elrond. "I have a feeling we will return soon, but speak no more of this right now."

The men walked out of the room and came back to the part of the study that was more familiar to Aragorn. Elrond walked onto the balcony and put his hands on the railing, looking out to the valley.

"My Lord, may I be excused?" Aragorn asked and the Elf turned to look at him.

"Yes, of course, go on," - Elrond waved his hand dismissively - "you might want to go and take a walk so you could process what I have told you."

Aragorn bowed his head and turned to exit the room. He was met with the Elf who had brought him there earlier.

"My lord Elrond, the Lady and her company have arrived," the Elf announced. Lord Elrond turned around and smiled brightly. Aragorn could clearly see the excitement in the Elven-lord's eyes, as he had not bothered to mask his emotions.

"Thank you, Sadron," he replied. "Could you please pass the news to Elladan and Elrohir as well? I shall go and greet the Lady."


	2. A Mere Ranger

Aragorn had been sitting on a bench in the gardens, reading a book, when he noticed his mother coming towards him. He straightened up and rested the book on his lap, looking at his mother expectantly. Gilraen sat down beside him and brushed a stray lock of hair off of his brow.

"My son, has something been bothering you?" asked the woman. "You have not been the same since the day you learned your true name."

The man smiled and replied, "No, mother. I could say it is the exact opposite. I have never been happier before than I am now, for I have met the Evenstar, Lady Arwen, in the great shadows of the night." Aragorn's eyes shone with adoration as he talked. 

"She looked like a star, the most radiant one I have ever seen. Her raven hair was flying in the wind, not yet touched by frost, and her face was so flawless and gentle. She was wearing a blue gown in the shade of the night sky, however, the sky would look hideous beside her. 

"In a state of great excitement, I called her by the name of her ancestor, Tinúviel, for she bears remarkable resemblance to Lady Lúthien herself, and I had thought she appeared right out of the song I had been singing only moments prior.

"Upon hearing me, Lady Undómiel turned to look at me, smiling. Her eyes were grey, like the stormy sea, and in them was the light of the Eldar. From that moment, I knew I loved her."

Gilraen looked at her son adoringly, shook her head, and laughed.

"Mother, do you laugh at my love?"

"Nay, my son, I laugh for it. May your love be evergreen and help you grow into a better, stronger man," sighed Gilraen, patting Aragorn's knee affectionately. "But I am afraid you cannot have what you seek. Lord Elrond would never let his only daughter marry a mortal man, even a descendant of many great kings."

Aragorn's eyes clouded and he abruptly stood up, dropping the book on his lap onto the road, "Then I will go in exile, for I will never love another woman like I love Arwen Undómiel."

"That is indeed your faith," sighed Gilraen, who had a gift of foresight. She told no one about the conversation with Aragorn.

  
  


On the next day, Aragorn was called to Elrond's study. Upon seeing the Man enter, the Elf beckoned him to join him on the balcony.

"Aragorn, great perils await you. You will either raise upon them as a winner, and reclaim what is rightfully yours, or perish in exile with all that is left from your kin. While facing those challenges, you must take no wife nor bind yourself to any woman," declared the Elven-lord in a voice so grave that made Aragorn falter.

"My lord, has my mother spoken to you?"

"No she has not, but I could see it in your eyes, Estel," Elrond replied, his hands grasping the railing tightly. "But I was not only talking of Arwen Undómiel. You shall not be wed to any man's daughter. But as for my beloved, she is one of the Eldar, while you are just a mortal, from the waning race of Men, a mere Ranger of the North. She rises far above you.

"But, she has the doom of the Elves on her. For as long as I live here, she shall live with the Youth of the Eldar. When I eventually depart Middle-earth, she shall accompany me, if she wishes."

Aragorn suddenly had a flash of foresight and he cried, "But lo, the choice will be soon made by your children, for your days run short."

"That is true," - Elrond nodded - "but there will be no hesitation for my daughter, unless you, son of Arathorn, come between us." The two men stood staring at each other silently for a short moment.

Lord Elrond sighed and looked away, "Alas, let us not speak of that right now. I not only called you here to talk about my daughter, but to also give you the shards of Narsil. The blade will long stay broken, but you shall carry it as a remainder of who you really are."

Aragorn once again followed Lord Elrond to the room which held the shards of Elendil's sword. Beside the pedestal lay a leather hilt. Elrond gathered up the pieces and secured them in the hilt. He then turned to Aragorn, handing him the sword.

"This you shall carry on your hip until the day that the blade that was broken shall be reforged."

Aragorn was standing in a quiet corner in the Hall of Fire, pondering about his oncoming journey. The Man had not yet decided where exactly he was setting off to, or what he even tried to accomplish. Due to his gloomy pondering, Aragorn had not noticed the three Elves coming over.

"What is bothering you, my brother?" Elladan asked, putting his hand on the Man's shoulder. Aragorn snapped out of his trance and raised his eyes to meet the _Ellon_ 's, also taking notice of his companions. _(Male Elf)_

"Welcome, Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel," he smiled, leaning on the wall. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

" _Ada_ told us you are leaving tomorrow," Elrohir stated. _(Father)_

Aragorn sighed, "Yes, my brothers, I am leaving to go to the Wild tomorrow morning. Where the path will take me next, I do not know."

"If you are truly leaving, let us spend this last night together, and reminisce about the older, lighter times," said Elrohir and the four men sat down.

As the night continued, the four men talked seldom of the coming journey, but told old stories to each other. Aragorn knew he was going to miss the Elves greatly, for the twins Elladan and Elrohir were like his brothers, and Glorfindel had been his mentor and friend since he was a young boy. 

However, numerous times during the evening, the Man had found his eyes glancing at Lady Arwen, who was sitting behind the long table in the centre of the room amongst Lord Elrond and other Elves.

"Estel," - Aragorn's eyes found Elrohir's face - "I can tell that your mind is elsewhere. You can go and bid farewell to her."

Aragorn exhaled in relief and moved to stand up, but was stopped by Glorfindel.

" _Ionneg_ , do not forget the lessons I gave you when you were a young boy." _(My boy)_

For Glorfindel had been the one who had taught Aragorn how to fight with a sword and bow a few years prior. Aragorn nodded solemnly and embraced the Elf.

" _Na lû e-govaned vîn_ ," whispered Elrohir as he, too, hugged the Man. _(Until next we meet)_

Aragorn, at last, looked at Elladan, who pulled him into a tight embrace. Upon letting go, the Elf smiled brightly at the Man.

" _Galu, Estel_ ." _(Good luck, Estel)_

Aragorn and Arwen Undómiel were walking side-by-side in the gardens. The man was subtly trying to watch the Elven-maiden, but felt like he was not very successful at remaining inconspicuous. Suddenly the _Elleth_ stopped and turned to look at Aragorn. _(Female Elf)_

"Why did you ask me to come here, Lord Aragorn?" she wondered, looking up at the man expectantly.

Aragorn gazed into the woman's radiant grey eyes and asked, "What do you think of me, Lady Arwen?"

"I think you are a great man," replied Evenstar, fixing the tail of her long dress. "You are fit to be a leader, as a descendant of Isildur should be. If you do not fail, one day, you shall become a great King."

"But my Lady, do you love me?"

Arwen sighed and turned to look at the Last Homely House, "You know I cannot answer that. I could not love you, even if I want to, for I have the Curse of the Eldar bestowed upon me. A day would come when I would have to choose between you and my father.

"If I chose my father, I would sail over the Great Sea to the Undying Lands and live there until the end of days. But if I chose remaining in Middle-earth alongside you, I would lose my father, my kin, and eventually, I would see you succumb to the curse of Men."

Aragorn stepped closer and brushed a hair out of the Elven-maiden's pale face, tucking it behind her pointed ear.

"I am leaving tomorrow morning, Lady Undómiel," he whispered. "Yet, I could not leave without speaking with you one last time, and confessing," - he gulped nervously - "I wanted to tell you that I am in love with you. Your radiant beauty charmed me from the moment I first saw you in that forest. At first, I thought I had fallen into a dream.

"Your voice, my Lady, is more beautiful than a nightingale's song. But your eyes amazed me the most, for they hold the light of Eärendil in them, and they remind me of the Sea and the adventures of my kin. You are the most magnificent creature I have ever seen, and I wish you could return my affection."

A single tear rolled down Lady Arwen's cheek, and she inhaled shakily.

"You know I cannot give you what you seek, my Lord." Aragorn reached out to dry the _Elleth_ 's cheek but she shook her head, moving away from his hand.

" _Goheno nin_ ," she whispered and walked back towards the house. _(Forgive me)_

  
  


Aragorn was fastening his sword hilt to his belt when someone softly knocked on the door. Upon turning, the Man noticed it was Lord Elrond.

"May I give you a few words of advice, Estel?" Aragorn nodded. "If you have not set yourself a clear goal already, go find your kin, the Dúnedain, Rangers of the North, and reunite them. They have not had a leader since the death of your father, and now you must take the responsibility upon your young shoulders. The Rangers are mostly scattered around Eriador, but there are bigger establishments in the North Downs and on the shores of Lake Evendim."

"I will do just that, my Lord," the Ranger smiled, and turned to pick up his bag.

"I do not want us to separate on a bad note," Elrond added. "Aragorn, when you and your mother came here, I took you in and raised you as you were my own son. My sons would never let any harm be done to you, as would I, and my daughter bears great affection for you, even if I would rather not allow it.

"You will always be welcomed with open arms here, in the valley of Imladris, son of Arathorn."

Aragorn pulled the Elven-lord into a tight hug, which the latter reciprocated moments later.

"Thank you for everything, my Lord. May we meet again soon."


	3. Fields of Fornost

Aragorn stood before the tall wooden gate of Bree-town. He knocked on the gate and an old man opened a little window, staring at him suspiciously.

"Who are you and what business do you have in Bree?" he demanded gruffly.

"I am merely a traveller who is planning on staying at the inn for the night."

A few moments later, a small door opened, and the Ranger was ushered in. He was pointed towards the The Prancing Pony Inn and then left alone. As he was walking along the streets, rain pouring down the drains in a deafening volume, he noticed people eyeing him suspiciously, so he quickened his pace.

Aragorn opened the creaking door of the inn and stepped in, shaking rain from his cloak. He walked towards the counter and eyed the burly man standing behind it.

"Welcome, I am the innkeeper, my name is Barney Butterbur. How can I help you tonight?" the man asked, smiling warmly through his curly ginger beard.

"Evening, may I get a room and a meal?"

After Aragorn had stored his luggage in his room, he went back to the common-room of the inn and sat down in a corner. In a few minutes time, he was brought dinner. The Man digged in, for he was ravenous after his long journey.

"I would not expose that curious ring of yours like that if I were you, my Lord. It makes you very easily recognisable."

Aragorn's eyes snapped up and his hand went to the hidden dagger in his boots. He was met with a pair of gleaming grey eyes hidden under a hood. 

"Who are you?" he straightened his back and took in the stranger's appearance.

The man was wearing a muddy grey cloak with simple clothes underneath. His face held scars from numerous battles and his mouth was in a frown. His shaggy grey hair was flecked with brown, the last memory of his youth. The stranger sat down across Aragorn.

"My name, son of Arathorn, is Elgaborn. I am also called Gaeferedir, Dread Hunter, in the lands surrounding Trestlebridge, for I have aided the men of that town with protecting their homes many times. 

"You probably do not remember me, for you were only two years of age when you left our village, but I was a friend of your late father. He was a great man, and I am glad to see his son seems to have grown up to be one as well," - he slid his eyes over the other man - "you can put your knife back into the sheath by the way. I am not dangerous, at least to you." 

The men stared at each other for a long moment before Elgaborn averted his eyes, "How is your mother?"

"She was doing fine last I saw her, just three weeks ago, on the morning I left Imladris," the younger man replied.

"I remember the day your mother came to our village. She and her family were being attacked by Orcs and our hunting party, led by your father, stumbled upon them. They would have surely perished if it were not for us. Since they were from a village that had been raided and burnt down by Orcs just a few days prior, we took them to our home and gave them a place to live.

"Your mother and father had a special bond from the start, but I noticed their love bloom about four months after your mother had arrived. Your grandfather, Gilraen's father, was a little uncertain about letting his only daughter marry so young, for he had a sense of foreboding that Arathorn would die young. But Ivorwen, your grandmother, convinced him by telling him that a hope will be born out of their marriage, but if they did not wed, it would not come until this Age lasts. They were wed in the same year, on Midsummer's Day. Arathorn's father was captured and killed by Hill-trolls, just a year after your parents married, so your father inherited the role of the Chieftain. The following year, on a beautiful day in the start of spring, you were born."

  
  


About two hours later, the men were still sitting in the common-room, but they had moved further back into the hall, where their chairs could face the fireplace. Elgaborn had taken out his pipe and was smoking. They seldom spoke, both were occupied with their own thoughts.

Aragorn looked at the other man, "How did you recognise me?"

"For starters, you caught my eye as soon as you stepped in from the door - you held yourself as you were of the Elven-race, and Men from Eriador are seldom brought up by the Elves, unless they are important. I also recognised the ring you are wearing, it is the Ring of Barahir, is it not? Lastly, you bear resemblance to your father," Elgaborn stated, blowing out a small but perfect ring of smoke.

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully.

"Where are you heading, Aragorn?" the older Ranger wondered, eyeing the younger man curiously.

"Lord Elrond told me to head to the shores of Lake Evendim or the North Downs to find our people, and take up the role of their chieftain." 

At those words, Elgaborn grew sad, "Oh, my boy, I wish you could have seen the shores of the lake, but it is a fruitless journey, for our villages over there have been run over by Orcs, and our kin driven into exile. Annúminas, once the strong and glorious capital of Arnor, has been invaded by Angmarim soldiers, and we have yet to rescue it from their foul clutches. The Enemy's numbers grow faster than ours'.

"Your only hope lies in the North Downs, in Fornost. There is a small Ranger settlement in the northern Fields of Fornost, from wherein I also set off all those months ago. Go there and talk to the leader, Halbarad, show him your ring, and he will not doubt your identity. He was only fourteen years of age when you were born, but he has not forgotten about the heir of Isildur just yet. If you set out tomorrow morning, I can accompany you until Trestlebridge, for I have business in that town. There our paths must divide."

The two men made plans to depart Bree-town the next dawn. The remainder of the evening, they traded stories of their childhoods and Aragorn had the chance to learn more about the past of his parents. They did not touch the topic of the War.

The Rangers set off as planned the next morning. Only a few saw them departing, for the streets were mostly empty at such an early hour. The men exited the West Gate without any hassle and turned north on the Greenway road.

  
  


For five days the men walked, seldom they rested, for the Dúnedain, Rangers of the North, are strong and tire slower than ordinary Men. They, at last, reached the forest on the border of the North Downs and Bree.

Suddenly, Aragorn froze. He leaned his knee down into the dirt and pressed his hand against the earth.

"Something is approaching us," the man said, looking at Elgaborn expectantly.

"These lands are littered with bands of Orcs, we must continue stealthily," replied the older Man.

The men pressed on, more wary of their surroundings, but in a few minutes time, they realized their attempt had been useless, as both of them could feel the ground shaking beneath their feet. The Orcs had smelled their flesh and were after them.

"Ready yourself for a fight, my Lord," whispered Elgaborn, as he drew his sword. "Let us hope we can best them."

Aragorn nodded, unsheathing his sword, and pulling out the knife of his boot. The men readied themselves and faced the direction the Orcs were coming from.

They didn't have to wait long - only moments later the beasts' cries could be heard and the first Orcs ran out of the bushes. Aragorn inhaled deeply and went forward. The Ranger decapitated the first Orc and many others. Elgaborn was fighting numerous Orcs beside him.

The men had been fighting for what seemed like hours, and they were getting exhausted. There is only so much two Men, even being the descendants of Númenóreans, one of the greatest mortal fighters of the First and Second Age, can do against a band of fifty Orcs. Aragorn glanced at Elgaborn and nodded - both were ready to use the last of their strength and make a run for it.

But all of a sudden, a hoot of a horn pierced through the air. Aragorn heard the sound of horses galloping towards them and moments later, twenty horse riders appeared on the field. Only after a few minutes, the remainder of the Orcs were defeated. A man jumped off his horse and stood in front of the two Rangers.

"Gaeferedir, you have arrived a few days earlier than we expected," said he, bowing his head.

"Talbot, it is most fortunate you stumbled upon us with your company," Elgaborn put his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"My scouts noticed the Orc tracks, and Eru knows how much we despise Orcs in those parts," replied Talbot. "But let us speak back in town, as these parts of the road are not as safe as they once were. We lost three men in this fight, so I can lend you and your companion horses, it will make the journey go quicker."

Aragorn and Elgaborn mounted the horses and the company rode back towards Trestlebridge. Aragorn rode up to the other Ranger.

"Who was that man you were talking to earlier?" wondered the younger man.

"His name is Talbot Hinton, and he is the chieftain of Trestlebridge."

The Rangers were given a house in the outskirts of town. After tending to the small gash on his side, Aragorn pulled out his weapons and started cleaning them.

"Aragorn, what are you carrying in that sheath?" Elgaborn asked, pointing at the leather sword sheath resting on Aragorn's bed. "I have not seen you use this sword even once in battle."

Aragorn, for a moment, wondered, if he should reveal the other man the true name and origin of the sword, but in the end, he decided he could trust him.

"Do not speak of this to anyone," warned the younger man and stood up. He went to his bed and picked up the sword, walking back to the table.

"This, my friend, is Elendil's sword, Narsil, the blade that was broken," - he unsheathed the sword and held it in front of his face - "I was given this by Lord Elrond to remind me who I am. One day, this sword will be reforged and I shall use it to fight the Great Evil."

It seemed as if Aragorn had grown in height while speaking, and for a moment, a crown seemed to be shining on his head. Elgaborn stared at the man in awe and bowed his head. He had a sudden flash of foresight come upon him. He saw the younger Ranger sitting on a white throne in the White City, with a crown on his head, and a sceptre in his right hand.

Aragorn left Trestlebridge the next morning on a borrowed horse, which he had promised to send back as soon as he had reached his destination. He travelled for many days, slower than the journey would normally take, for he had to be careful - he could not attract the attention of enemies.

The Ranger was stopped in the northern Fields of Fornost on the dusk of the seventh day. He was surrounded by a group of Men who brought him to their settlement, which was the place Elgaborn had been talking about.

"Bring me to your leader," Aragorn looked at the men sternly.

"What do you want from him?" asked one of the men, staring at him suspiciously.

"I have been given a task by Elrond Half-elven, Lord of Imladris, and was advised to come here by the Ranger Elgaborn," replied Aragorn proudly, eyes boring into the other man.

The Rangers exchanged a few meaningful looks and were quiet for a few moments, before huddling together.

"If he was told to come here by Elgaborn we can trust him," exclaimed one of the men and threw a glance towards Aragorn.

"Let us bring the stranger over to Halbarad then, he can decide what becomes of him," another man added and the others nodded in agreement.

Aragorn was led through numerous narrow streets and passageways, and at last he made it to what must have been the chief's house. Upon entering, the chief was briefed on the situation, and he asked everyone but the young Ranger to leave the room.

"So, who are you and what brings you here?" asked Halbarad. "Tell me your story, stranger."

"I was recommended to find my kin by Lord Elrond of Rivendell, but I did not know of this settlement until I met the Ranger Elgaborn in Bree-town. He was the one who told me to find this place and talk to you," said Aragorn, observing the other man.

Halbarad had neatly combed shoulder-length brunette hair and grey eyes, which were staring intently at the man in front of him, as if he was trying to read his mind. He was wearing a brown shirt and grey trousers, combined with a pair of leather boots.

"I understand you are in favour of the Elves, and Elgaborn trusts you," Halbarad spoke. "But what is your name, stranger?"

"My name," - Aragorn straightened his back proudly - "is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I come here in search of my kin, and in hope to restore the bonds of fellowship that were once broken."

Aragorn unsheathed Narsil and brought it in front of his chest. The Ring of Barahir shone on his finger, bright like a star, and it seemed as if his worn cloak had disappeared, showing his King-like statue. He looked like the Kings of old, carven out of stone. For it is said that Aragorn, out of all the heirs of Elendil, bore great resemblance to Elendil himself.

Halbarad's mouth dropped as he stared at the man in front of him in awe. He stood up from his chair and slowly approached the younger man.

"My Lord," - he kneeled as he spoke - "it would be an honour to serve you. You should take the mantle of the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, as it is your proper role."

"Do not kneel, Halbarad, I do not want your service, I would rather have your friendship and council," frowned Aragorn and beckoned the other man to stand up. "I will not deny, I came here with my mind set on claiming the title of the Chieftain, but I would have not been mad if I did not get it."

So it began, in the year 2951, eighteen years after the death of his father, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, of the line of Elendil and Isildur, formally took the title of the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and he held that title until the year 3019, when he was crowned the King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor.


	4. The Grey Wizard

Five years had passed since Aragorn claimed the role of the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. He was a natural leader, quickly gaining the respect and trust of his people. Halbarad, however, became his most beloved companion and advisor. The two men travelled far and wide together, slaying many dangerous beasts on their journeys. The hunting duo was famous amongst the Dúnedain - Men would cherish the day the two Rangers came to visit their homesteads.

Aragorn was coming back from a hunting trip to Annúminas, when he heard Orc cries and the metallic sound of swords clashing. He broke into a run, hoping he would be able to aid the person in need before it was too late. He arrived upon a curious scene: an old man with a long grey beard and a grey cloak was fighting a band of fifteen Orc. Aragorn unsheathed his sword and cried out. He rushed into battle and together, the men beat the foes in mere minutes.

Aragorn tried to catch his breath while he put his gear away once again. He, at last, looked at the old man, and could not help but notice that he was not out of breath. In fact, the man was barely fazed as he picked up his wooden staff, sheathed his sword, and put on his odd, pointy hat once again. He then stood straight, staring at the Ranger with his piercing black eyes.

"I thank you for coming to my aid, Lord Aragorn," the strange man said. "I have heard a lot about your deeds and adventures with Master Elrond's sons, recounted by the men themselves, and also, by their father. You are a brave Man, my Lord, loads of great warriors would be glad to have a Man like yourself as an ally. _Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn._ " _(A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting.)_

Aragorn bowed his head, smiling briefly upon hearing the Elven tongue spoken, for one does not hear it often in these parts of the world. 

"You seem to know my name well, but I do not know yours," he remarked.

"I have been given many names in the numerous years I have walked the roads of Middle-earth. In this part of the world, I am called Gandalf, but in the South, I am known as Incánus, and Tharkûn amongst the Dwarves," replied the stranger. "However, I believe you will not recognise any of those names, for you have been raised by the Elves, and they call me _Mithrandir_."

"I have indeed heard this name multiple times from the mouths of Lord Elrond and other Elves. But that means you are no ordinary Man, but a Wizard, one of the five _Istari_ that journeyed to Middle-earth all those years ago."

The Wizard's eyes glinted, and he nodded.

  
  


Aragorn invited Gandalf back to Esteldín, where he was residing with some of his kin. At the start of his rule, the Ranger had tried living in Fornost, where a small portion of the men of Dúnedain lived. However, after a few months, he realized the location of Fornost was not ideal for anything bigger than a camp for travelling Rangers. The fields of Fornost had been burned by countless fires, and the grass had been trampled down by the feet of warriors and their mounts. Nothing but stunted trees and prickly bushes could grow on those fields.

Therefore, Aragorn had consulted with a number of Rangers who knew the North Downs better than he did, and together, they had decided to establish a new settlement upon the ancient ruins of a town called Dolindîr, which had been built in the Kingsfell mountains many years ago. The residents of the town started to call their new home by the name Esteldín, in tribute to their new Chieftain's childhood name, Estel. Esteldín was considered to be the capital of the North Downs and Evendim, for as long as Annúminas was in the clutches of Angmar.

But lo, Fornost had not been abandoned, for it remained as an important outpost and resting place for travelling Men. Rangers often walked the roads between Fornost and Esteldín, bearing news and updates to their Chieftain living in the capital.

  
  


Aragorn and Gandalf were walking back to Esteldín, when Gandalf sensed something, and faltered for a moment. However, he seemed to ignore whatever had alerted him, for he smiled knowingly, and continued walking. The Wizard glanced at his companion occasionally, as if he was waiting for something to happen. Aragorn was about to question him about his strange behaviour, when he was tackled and pulled down from behind. The Man, surprised, closed his eyes upon impact with the land. He felt a light body straddling him and his hand unconsciously went to the hidden knife in his cloak.

"Nice to see you again, my brother!" Elladan's clear voice rang in the air, and Aragorn opened his eyes, letting out a startled laugh.

"I could have stabbed you with my knife, Elladan."

"You would have punctured my twin brother with a knife I gave you as a gift?" Elrohir stepped into the Ranger's view and smiled brightly.

Aragorn guffawed and pushed the Elf off of him, standing up. He pulled both Elves into a strong embrace and let out a content sigh.

"It is wonderful to see you both."

Elladan's gaze fell on Gandalf and his eyes widened.

" _Mae l'ovannen, Mithrandir_ ," he said, bowing his head. _(Well met, Mithrandir)_

The other Elf echoed his greeting.

"No need to use such formalities, sons of Elrond," replied the Wizard, smiling amusedly. "We have known each other for a long time."

"Elladan, Elrohir, will you join us in Esteldín?" Aragorn asked, putting his hands on the brothers' shoulders and grinning at them warmly.

"Yes, we will."

The men arrived in Esteldín on the evening of the same day. Aragorn led them to the houses that were specifically built for guests, where they could put away their gear.

The Ranger then brought them to his own house he shared with some men of his kin, and they sat down in the sitting room. Aragorn and the Elves traded stories of their recent adventures, falling back to their usual, comfortable manner of speaking. Gandalf, however, took out his pipe, filled it with pipe-weed, and lit it. He then quietly followed the conversation.

"How is your sister, Lady Undómiel?" wondered Gandalf, putting out his pipe and cleaning it.

"She is well, Mithrandir," Elrohir replied, a small smile taking over his face. "Arwen decided to return to our mother's kin in Lothlórien for some time. She left Imladris a few days prior to our leaving. _Ada_ was greatly saddened by her departure. When he learned of our wish to visit Estel, he almost forbade us to come, for he does not like if all his children are absent from the Last Homely House." _(Father)_

Aragorn's eyes lit up at the mention of the Elven-maiden. He was reminded of her radiant beauty, and he missed the sound of her voice. Their departure had been bittersweet, and left the Ranger aching for one more conversation with the _Elleth_ . _(Female Elf)_

"Elladan, how about my mother? How has she been doing?" Aragorn asked, forcing himself to stop thinking about Lady Arwen.

"Your mother, of course, has not been the same since you left. She is more quiet and spends most of her time in the library reading." replied the Elf. "On the morning of our departure, she came to us and told me to give you this."

Elladan handed the Man a beautiful silver knife in a leather sheath. The blade had leaves engraved into its handle.

"Your mother told us this knife was given to her by your father Arathorn. She wants you to have it, as she believes she will not need it any more."

Aragorn accepted the knife, and thanked the Elven brothers. Throughout the remainder of the evening, he held the knife on his lap.

  
  


Gandalf announced he was leaving the next morning. He pulled Aragorn aside into a secluded corner.

"I can tell that you are a man who does not like to stay put. I have a quest for you," said the Wizard. "Go to Gondor and Rohan, and aid the people with getting rid of the Evil residing there. It will not be easy, since over the years, their roots have grown deep, but I believe you are strong enough to overcome them."

Aragorn nodded, "I will go as soon as my tasks here are done."

"But do not use your real name, nor reveal your true heritage to anyone. The time for you to walk under the southern skies, bearing your real name and heritage, will not come for many years."

"I will use the name Thorongil, Eagle of the Star."

"Very well, may luck be on your side while you serve the Kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor, Lord Thorongil."


	5. Thorongil, a Rider of the Mark

Aragorn had finished his tasks in the north within a year, and after stopping in Rivendell for a week, he headed towards the Gap of Rohan. His journey was wearisome, but not even once did he think of turning back. The Ranger first rode on the green fields of Rohan in the start of May, ten months after he had met Gandalf.

Aragorn was planning on riding through the Fords of Isen, and crossing the Westfold on the West Road, which would lead him straight to Edoras. He reckoned the journey would take a couple of days. The man sighed and looked away from the campfire, towards his horse. Beleg was grazing near the camp, not going far from it. He had been a gift from Lord Elrond before Aragorn left Rivendell. Both the horse and the rider had already grown very fond of each other.

Beleg had been raised by Elves, so he did not wander away during the night, like normal horses would, if left unbound. He had shiny brown fur, both his mane and tail were pitch black, and he had brown eyes. The horse was one of the strongest and fastest in Elrond's stables, save for Elrond and Glorfindel's horses.

Aragorn whistled and called out Beleg's name. The horse was at his side in moments, waiting for further commands. The man gently scratched his neck and took out a piece of bread. He offered it to the horse, who neighed and happily accepted it. Aragorn watched the horse eat as he thought about his coming journey.

  
  


On the next day, the man woke up at dawn. He ate a quick breakfast, gathered his things, and set off once again. He had been riding for many hours, when he noticed a strange black swarm in the distance. He continued his journey more warily, trying to make out who was in front of him. A few minutes later, he saw that it was a small Orc warband of fifteen fighting three Men, most likely Rohirrim, and the latter seemed to be struggling.

" _Noro lim, Beleg_ ," Aragorn whispered, loading his bow. _(Run faster, Beleg)_

Upon reaching the struggle, Aragorn fired an arrow, successfully hitting an Orc in its head and killing it. The Ranger then gracefully jumped off Beleg, and ran into the fight. He decapitated an Orc with his sword and spun around, stabbing another one with the knife he had pulled out from his boot. He noticed a Goblin attempting to kill one of the soldiers, who, by looking at his armour, might have been the leader, from behind. He quickly grabbed his bow and shot an arrow at the beast's head, resulting in a quick death. The Rohirrim soldier turned around and upon noticing the dead Orc on the ground, smiled at Aragorn gratefully. In the meantime, the other two soldiers had slain the remaining Orcs.

"What is your name, o brave soldier, and where do you come from?" asked the leader.

"My name is Thorongil," replied Aragorn. "I travelled here from Eriador, in search of King Thengel."

"You have found him, and saved his life, for I am Thengel King," the other man declared. "You shall be rewarded greatly, if you would care to join us in our home."

The Ranger bowed his head, "I am most happy to join you on the journey to Edoras, my King. But as far as rewards go, my only request is to serve amongst your brave soldiers, and to assist you in fighting the Great Evil."

"I would be honoured to have such a warrior such as yourself in my army. Your wish shall be granted when we reach the Golden Halls of Meduseld. There you shall kneel upon my throne and swear an oath."

Aragorn recognised the words the King spoke as the words Gandalf had told him ten months ago, but he was not surprised, for the _Istari_ were known for their gift of foresight.

"The King has arrived!" a voice cried as the gates of Edoras fell open. The men rode in and the soldiers nodded their heads, greeting the citizens. Aragorn took his time to look around.

The streets were neatly lined with small wooden houses with straw roofs, and they looked very comfortable and lived in. Women were carrying water and men were doing chores. There were a lot of children on the streets, most of them running around playing games. The Ranger noticed a few older boys sparring with wooden sticks as swords. 

Two kids, a boy and a girl, both around the age of ten, walked right across the path in front of them. The small girl had a basket filled with vegetables, and the boy held a water bucket on his head. Both of them were laughing and talking animatedly.

However, Aragorn's gaze soon travelled to the Golden Hall. Its roof looked as if it was made out of pure gold, for the straw glinted in the sunlight. Its wooden walls were richly decorated with carvings and lined with lean pillars.

The men jumped off of their horses at the base of the stairs and the stable boys took them.

" _Posto vae, Beleg_ ," Aragorn patted the horse's neck and handed the reins to the young man. "Make sure he would be well fed and taken care of." _(Rest well, Beleg)_

The boy nodded obediently and the horses were led away.

"You seem to own a great horse, Lord Thorongil," remarked King Thengel.

"Beleg is Elvish. He is a gift from Elrond Half-elven, and is one of the greatest horses from Rivendell's stables, save for Master Elrond and Lord Glorfindel's own horses. He does not need to be bound, for he stays ever faithful to his raider, and never gets lost on the road. I would have, no doubt, perished on the way here if it were not for him."

The King bestowed Aragorn to follow him and the two men, followed by Thengel's soldiers, made their way up the stairs. When they arrived on the top of the steps, the two guards standing on either side of the entrance bowed their heads and opened the doors.

Meduseld's walls were richly decorated with tapestries, depicting the history and legends of the Rohirrim. The hall served as a home for the King and his kin, a meeting place for the King's council, and also a party hall.

Aragorn was kneeling on the foot of the King's throne, giving an oath to protect the King at all costs. King Thengel was sitting in front of him and his wife, Morwen Steelsheen, was standing beside him. The hall was filled with people, from mere civilians to the King's own kin. All of them wanted to celebrate their King's safe return.

"Rise, Thorongil, a Rider of the Mark!" cried King Thengel when the Ranger had finished reciting his oath.

Before standing, Aragorn kissed the King's hand. He then took his sword he had laid in front of the King's feet and stood up. He put his sword back into its sheath and turned around. The people applauded him and he bowed his head.

"Lord Thorongil," - Aragorn turned his head to the source of the voice and saw a young boy - "my father told me about how you saved his life. I wanted to thank you personally."

The Ranger, upon realising he was talking to the King's son, bowed his head.

"No need to thank me, Prince Théoden. The King trusting me, a complete stranger in your noble land, enough to accept my service within the first hour of meeting me, is already a great reward."

The young Lord settled down beside Aragorn and together they sat, staring at Rohan in the moonlight.

The wind was ruffling the flags, as if it was playing with them, and somewhere, a lonely dog barked. The sky was cloudless and he could easily see Valacirca and Menelmacar, two constellations that the Varda had grouped together Ages ago, accompanied by the Star of Eärendil.

"Lord Thorongil," the boy spoke with an uncertain voice. "I did not only come here to give you my gratitude. I also wanted to ask you if you could teach me how to fight, for my father said you showed extraordinary skill in using your blade while you were fighting the Orcs."

Aragorn looked at the boy and nodded, "Yes, I would not mind teaching you, if the King approves of your wish."


	6. Théodwyn, Princess of Rohan

Aragorn had become a great captain of the Rohirrim over the past six years of his service under Thengel King. The Ranger led many fights against the Evil's forces, gaining the love of the King and his people fast. His alias "Thorongil" was known all throughout Rohan, and even reached the grand halls of Gondor. 

However, what intrigued the Riders of the Mark most, was Aragorn's unusual way of fighting. The man had been trained by Elves in his youth, so he posed as a great threat when using his bow, and he wielded his sword gracefully like the Elves would when in battle. But at the same time, he possessed the strength of Dúnedain, and tired slower than ordinary Men. The Ranger agreed to train just about anyone who would ask; people, starting from young children, to the Rohirrim soldiers and the King's son himself, had received lessons from him.

Prince Théoden readied his sword and sent Aragorn a goofy grin. The Ranger, pulling out his own blade, smiled back at the teenager. The boy suddenly lunged at the other man, and their fight began.

The men's swords clashed and they danced around each other. Théoden desperately tried to disarm his opponent, but to no avail. The Ranger ended up blocking every single one of the Prince's hits.

"Try to be less predictable, my Lord. I can easily tell what your next move is going to be, and so will your future opponents," remarked Aragorn and laughed.

Théoden let out a frustrated growl and went in more furious than before, which led him to be sloppy. The older man saw an opening and in mere seconds, managed to push his sword to the teenager's throat. Théoden's sword fell down onto the floor with a loud clash.

"You just died, your Highness," remarked Aragorn sternly, removing the blade from the boy's throat. "Do not let your emotions take control of your brain and actions, for you will be more likely to perish when you do so."

Théoden nodded and calmed his breath. After a few moments, he picked up his sword from where it had fallen onto the floor, and readied himself again.

However, the sparring session was interrupted by a woman rushing over to the two men.

"Your Highness, the Queen has given birth to a girl, and wants you to come and meet your sister," she spoke after bowing her head.

Théoden's head whipped towards Aragorn, as if asking for permission, and the man laughed, shooing the boy away.

"Go on, meet your sister. Find me whenever you want another lesson."

The Prince nodded gratefully and put his sword into its sheath. He then rushed to the Queen's chambers with the woman.

Aragorn looked at the running Prince and sighed affectionately. The teenager had grown into a man over the past few years. His child-like face had morphed into a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. His wavy blonde hair was up to his shoulders and neatly combed, with a diadem, made out of silver, resting on his hair. He wore a grey tunic and pants completed with a pair of leather boots. The boy sometimes made rash decisions when he was angry, but most of the time, he was kind and generous.

Suddenly, King Thengel walked into the Golden Hall with a wide smile on his face. The people grew quiet and waited in anticipation for what the King had to say.

"My people," - he raised his hands - "today, my daughter was born. Welcome Théodwyn, Princess of Rohan, into the world!"

The room erupted into a deafening round of applause. At once, commands were given to prepare a big feast for the coming evening.

The Golden Hall was once again filled with people of all titles, from mere citizens to the King and his family. Aragorn was seated on the right side of the Prince, who was talking to his father animatedly. Someone further down the room had broken into a song and people were standing up from their seats so they could watch the singer.

Théoden was getting very excited and flung his hands all over the place. He was talking about his lessons with Thorongil, when the chicken leg that was previously clasped securely in his grasp, flew onto the floor. The teen grew quiet and looked at the chicken leg, then at his father, and back to the piece of food once again.

Aragorn snorted and the boy flipped his head to look at him. Slowly, a smile bloomed on his face and in a few moments, he was full blown laughing. Soon, the King and the Ranger joined as well.

"My son, you ought to be more careful when eating, do try to stay more calm. It is not fit for a future King to fling his food all over his Hall," scolded the King, trying, and failing, to put on a stern impression.

"Yes, Father."

The cheer in the hall was broken by the door suddenly thrown open. A man in bloody and torn clothes stumbled in. He tried to walk up to the King, but was stopped by the guards. King Thengel, however, signalled them to let him through. The man was released and came to kneel in front of the King.

"Your Majesty, a large army of Orcs raided the village I come from two nights ago. Not many survived, and I was the only one who could bear the journey here. By the looks of things, the Orcs seem to be heading further south, but they are moving slowly," said the man, breathing heavily.

"Give this man some food and new clothes," ordered the King, and turned towards Aragorn. "Thorongil, how quickly can you gather your men?"

"It will take a few hours to gather all the weapons and armour, and ready the horses."

"Very well, we ride at dawn," he turned to the refugee. "Where is your village?"

"My village laid on the eastern shores of the Entwash, a three-day-journey from Edoras on a horse," replied the man. "The Orcs will be about a day's journey from the confluence of Entwash and Snowbourn by now, my Lord."

  
  


The next morning, a few hours before dawn, Aragorn entered the stables. He quietly called for Beleg and the horse neighed in answer. The Ranger walked to his pen and opened it. He put on the horse's reins, but no saddle. The Man gently combed his fingers through his horse's mane and scratched his neck, whispering endearingly into his ear in Sindarin.

Over the past few years, the two companions had become nearly inseparable. They had formed a special and unbreakable bond. Beleg would let no man, save Aragorn, mount him. The Ranger could ride him bareback, for the horse would never let him fall. However, while travelling long distances or going to battle, he preferred to use a saddle.

" _ Tolo ar nin, mellon nîn _ ," the Man led the horse out of the stables.  _ (Come with me, my friend) _

Aragorn jumped on Beleg and rode out of the gates of Edoras. He turned east and followed the riverbed of Snowbourn.

" _ Noro lim, Beleg _ ," cried the Ranger and the horse sped up.  _ (Run faster, Beleg) _

In just two hours, for Beleg was faster than an ordinary horse, they reached the part of the river, where it connected with Entwash, and Aragorn gracefully unmounted the horse. He pressed his ear against a nearby rock and listened. Far away, though faintly, he heard the stomping of the Orcs, and it was slowly approaching. The man stood up once again and rode to the top of a nearby cliff.

In the first light of the morning sun, he gazed into the distance, hoping to spot his enemies. However, to his relief, he could see none just yet.

Aragorn pushed the doors of Meduseld open and walked in. The rising Sun shone behind him, reflecting off of his helm and chestplate, successfully giving him the appearance of a Soldier from the Past. The man approached the King, who looked at him in surprise.

"Where have you been, Thorongil? The men have been looking for you the whole morning," wondered Thengel.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord," replied Aragorn apologetically. "I departed early to ride out and meet Entwash to learn more about our enemies. I heard the Orcs moving, and to our fortune, could not see them," - the King sighed in relief - "but, my Lord, unless my ears deceive me, we are fighting against at least two thousand. Will we have enough power to best them? I have no doubt about the skill of your soldiers, but the numbers."

King Thengel placed a reassuring hand on the Ranger's shoulder, "You have trained the soldiers yourself, and I have no doubt in your skills. The challenge will be great, but we will hopefully come out victorious."

Aragorn smiled back at the other man and nodded.

"We are almost ready to depart," the King continued. "Go and get your weapons, then make sure your men are ready to depart."

For the Ranger was the leader of a group of two hundred and fifty brave Rohirrim, who had proved to be the most gifted in fighting, and they were known as Thorongil's soldiers. Often, Aragorn would ride out with his company and stop the raiding Orcs and other creatures in service of the Evil, which resided in the south-east.

Merely two hours later, the warriors were ready to depart. The King and the Prince bid farewell to the Queen, and after mounting their horses, rode out of the gates and to the front of the Riders, where Aragorn was already waiting. At the King's command, a horn was blown, and the Riders of the Mark started their journey to face the forces of the Evil.

The army arrived at the confluence of Entwash and Snowbourn three hours after noon, eight hours after they had started their journey. Aragorn rode on top of the cliff once again and looked north. He, at once, noticed the Orcs coming towards them. He went back to the King with a grave face.

"The Orcs are not more than two leagues from us."

Thengel nodded, "Thorongil, take your men and go to the right. Grimbold, go left."

"My lord," spoke Aragorn before leaving, and the other man looked at him. "May the Valar protect you and your son from all harm."

The King smiled and drew his sword.


	7. The White City of Gondor

Aragorn greeted the guards and entered Meduseld. He admired the rich decorations as he walked, for the Golden Hall had become a home for him during his eleven years of service in Rohan. He approached the King sitting on his throne, and upon reaching him, bowed his head deeply.

"My Lord, I have been in your service for nearly eleven years now, and I would like to be released, for I have a feeling that I will not be needed here any longer. I have taught your son skills that will help him become a strong leader, and he has grown into a handsome man, perfectly capable of defending himself and his loved ones. But I must follow my path into the grand halls of Gondor now."

"Thorongil, while I am greatly saddened by your departure, I knew this hour would come eventually," sighed Thengel. "I have seen you gaze longingly towards the White Mountains many times."

Aragorn smiled wistfully, his mind once again going back to the White Halls.

"You are a great man, and a strong soldier. You have served me well, and Gondor will be lucky to have you ride under the flag of the White Tree," continued the King. "You can leave whenever you are ready, but I ask you to at least remain until the end of this evening, so we could dine together for one last time."

"My Lord, I would be honoured to join you for dinner," - the Ranger bowed his head - "however, this was not the only reason I came here. I also wanted to ask you for a favour. Beleg grows old, and he is weary from battle. I am going to release him so he can go home to Imladris, and rest for the remainder of his days. I would ask you for a new horse so I could ride to Gondor."

"This is easily manageable, you can choose any horse that does not have an owner already. Consider this as a reward I give you for your long years of faithful service."

Aragorn nodded and exited the hall.

Aragorn unlocked Beleg's box and looked at his horse for one last time. The horse's once shiny brown coat had a grey tint to it, and his mane was not as vibrantly black as it had been eleven years ago. Beleg could not run for nearly as long and fast as he could at the start of their friendship, and he had grown more calm, letting other people beside the Ranger touch him. However, the fire in his eyes had not yet dimmed.

The Ranger unfastened the reins and put them into the pocket of his pants, intending to keep them. He then beckoned Beleg to follow him. The horse, sensing that it was time for departure, sauntered after him quietly. The duo walked out of the gates of Edoras and stopped on the nearby fields. Aragorn turned to the horse and caressed his mane gently.

" _Agoreg vae, mellon nîn_ ," whispered the Ranger. _(You did well, my friend)_

Beleg quietly neighed in reply and nudged his shoulder. The horse's melancholy brown eyes gazed into the Man's grey ones.

"Go to your Elven-home in Imladris, and Lord Elrond's people will take care of you," said Aragorn in Sindarin. "You have served me better than any steed has ever done, and I shall never forget you."

The Man hugged his horse's neck for the last time, " _Novaer, Beleg_ ." _(Farewell, Beleg)_

Beleg neighed, and turned away. As he was galloping towards the Last Homely House, Aragorn felt tears springing from his eyes. He, without drying his eyes, walked back to Edoras, and the gates shut after him.

Beleg arrived in Imladris after a perilous three-week journey, exhausted and starving. He was greeted by the Elves, and brought to the Stables, where he was nursed back to good health within the first week of his arrival. There, in the home of Elrond Half-elven, the horse lived the rest of his days in tranquility and peace.

  
  


Aragorn first saw the White City of Gondor, Minas Tirith, five days after he first set out from Edoras. At last, the city of his ancestors laid before him, and the Ranger was in awe. He rode towards the main gate, and was let in with no hassle, for both he and his horse bore the colours of Rohan, one of Gondor's few allies.

Aragorn navigated the curvy streets of Minas Tirith with ease, and took his time to look around. The city was divided into seven levels, which were surrounded with tall walls, made out of pearl white bricks. A great cliff of grey stone, in level with the uppermost tier, jutted out from the front of the city, and divided all but the first level into two. The streets were lined with houses made out of similar white bricks as the walls. Most of them were residential, with the occasional inn and market squished in, and narrow passageways ran between them. The streets were busy: children were playing and running, men and women were doing their daily chores, and guards were walking around.

Aragorn passed through the first five gates, rode past the Houses of Healing with its tranquil gardens on the sixth level, and at last, came upon the last gate. There, he led Revion, the horse that King Thengel had gifted him, to a stable, and left him for the time being, for no horse was allowed in the Citadel.

"State your name and your business, stranger," ordered the guard who was blocking the gate.

"My name is Thorongil," said Aragorn. "I have come from Rohan to speak to the Steward on behalf of King Thengel."

"Very well, I shall accompany you to meet the Steward myself."

The guard opened the gate and beckoned the Ranger to follow him. The two men walked through a wide tunnel which came out of the hill and into the courtyard. The seventh level, like the other levels below, was lined with a high wall and seven towers.

The courtyard of the Citadel was a large circular grassy area, and had a fountain in the centre. However, what caught Aragorn's eye immediately, was the White Tree of Gondor, the centrepiece of the courtyard, once planted there by Isildur. It was there to symbolise the blessings of Men, but withered in the Third Age with the death of the last King. The tree had a lean unwrinkled white bark, and its numerous branches reached far and wide.

Behind the courtyard was the White Tower of Ecthelion, rising to a great height, which housed the Tower Hall, the throne room of Gondor. At the back of it was the King's house, where the Kings of Gondor once resided.

The men passed the door-wardens and after walking through a long stone corridor, entered the throne room. The hall was built of stone and supported by great pillars made out of black marble, connecting in the roof into an archway, lit by long windows on either side. In-between the pillars were tall stone images, graven in the likeness of the Kings of Old.

At the far end of the hall, on top of a flight of stairs, was the throne of the King, which was under a canopy of marble, shaped like a helm. At the foot of the steps was the seat of the Stewards, made out of black stone, and on the chair sat Steward Ecthelion II.

"My Lord," - bowed the guard - "this is Thorongil, who came to speak on behalf of King Thengel of Rohan."

The Steward thanked him and the man left, leaving Aragorn standing in front of the throne.

"What news do you bear, Thorongil of Rohan?" asked Ecthelion, clasping his hands on his lap.

"I come bearing no news from Rohan, my Lord. I have asked Thengel King to release me from his service, and come here to serve the White City, if you would have me."

"Your great deeds have even reached the halls of Gondor, Eagle of the Star. I would be honoured to have you in my service," spoke the Steward. "If you are sure about your wish to serve me, hand me your blade and repeat the words after me."

Aragorn unsheathed his sword and placed it in the hands of the other man, who put it on his lap. He then kneeled and placed his hand on the hilt, repeating the oath after Ecthelion.

"And I, Ecthelion, son of Turgon, Lord of Gondor, Steward of the High King, hear you. And I will not forget it, nor fail to reward you what is given: fealty with love, valour with honour, oath-breaking with vengeance."

The Ranger stood up, received his sword, and put it back to its sheath.

"Welcome, Thorongil, a soldier of Gondor," declared Ecthelion.

As the men were talking, another man entered the hall. Aragorn did not notice him at first, but then the newcomer spoke.

"My Lord, who is this man, for I have not seen him here before," questioned the newcomer, eyeing the soldier curiously.

Ecthelion, smiling widely, replied, "This, my son, is Thorongil, who came from Rohan. He shall serve in my service from this day," - he turned his gaze at Aragorn - "Thorongil, this is my son, Denethor."

Aragorn looked at the man in question, and bowed his head. Denethor was a tall man with a slender yet athletic build. His wavy black hair was up to his ribs, and his face was slender, like the rest of his body, but he had a strong jaw and cheeks, combined with a light stubble. He wore a black tunic with dark pants and boots. The man had a black silk cape with the symbol of Gondor, the White Tree surrounded by stars, carefully strapped to his back. On his belt, he had a sheath for his sword, and a horn, which was tipped with silver and inscribed with ancient letters. It was the Horn of Gondor, an ancient heirloom of the Stewards of Gondor.

The Ranger greeted the Steward's son with a nod and a polite 'my Lord'. The other man, after looking at him for a long moment, quickly returned the greeting while eyeing his father carefully.

However, Denethor noticed what no other man could see, for he saw the true power of Thorongil, the power of the Kings from the olden days, and from this hour, he feared and envied him.

But, what no man could not yet see, was the small white flower starting to grow in the ground before the White Tree, awakened by the return of the King.


	8. Denethor's Jealousy

Aragorn had been a faithful servant to Gondor for six years. The man had quickly moved up the ranks and got up to Captain of the Guard within two years of his service. He was well-loved in the hearts of the Men of Gondor and Steward Ecthelion, and often preferred over the Steward's son, Denethor, himself.

The latter was obviously not pleased with the fact, and grew to dislike the Ranger greatly. But he was a well mannered man, so he did not let his anger towards the other man show publically. Lo and behold, the men actually agreed on most topics that came up for discussion, excluding on the matter of listening to the council of Saruman the White.

The Ranger had advised the Steward numerous times not to put trust into Saruman the White, but to seek the wisdom and council of Gandalf the Grey instead. For, when reports of the Necromancer, a disguise of Sauron, residing in Dol Guldur, a stronghold in the dark southern parts of Mirkwood which were infested with spiders, first appeared, the Wizard, being the head of the White Council, opposed assaulting it. He was overruled after Gandalf himself went to Dol Guldur, and confirmed the Necromancer was really the Dark Lord. The White Council attacked the stronghold, and Sauron, who had not yet gained enough strength to defend himself, fled to Mordor. However, Dol Guldur still remained a powerful stronghold of the Enemy.

Aragorn was standing on his balcony, a couple of minutes before dawn, gazing east. He watched as the mountain range Ephel Dúath, also known as the Outer Fence, was slowly turning pink in the light of the rising Sun. The mountain range fenced in Mordor from its western and southern side, and intertwined with Ered Lithui, the Ash Mountains, in the north, creating a powerful barrier to protect the dark land. Between the two mountain ranges, in the deep valley of Udûn, stood the Black Gate of Mordor, where Sauron's large armies could pass through.

The sky above Mordor was cloudy, while above Gondor, it was cloudless, and a few brighter stars were still visible. It looked as if a barrier was holding the bad weather back from passing over the mountains, and into Gondor. 

Sun seldom shone through the thick clouds, and occasional flashes of lightning lit up the evil land. The weather of Mordor was uncomfortably dry and hot, for the land was a lifeless desert, where water, seldom fresh, was a rare occurrence, and no plants besides prickly bushes and stunted trees could grow in the ashy dirt. The ash and lava coming from Mount Doom, the volcano where Sauron's most prized property, the One Ring, was forged in the Second Age, made the air feel dry and nearly unbearable to breathe.

Not far from the volcano laid the capital of Mordor, Barad-dûr, and it was the greatest fortress in Middle-earth in the Third Age. The stronghold was held together by dark and powerful magic, for its foundation could not be destroyed while the One Ring was still in existence. The castle itself was made out of black stone and carven into the side of a cliff.

The Ranger sighed and looked down at the empty alleyways of Minas Tirith. Somewhere, a rooster crowed, indicating the start of the day. In just a few minutes, first people appeared on the streets, doing their daily chores. Aragorn returned to his room and started getting ready for the day. He put on his armor and fastened his sword to his hip. He then combed his fingers through his hair, untangling some strands in the process.

The Ranger placed a chain with the Ring of Barahir around his neck, for he was careful not to wear it on his finger while he was disguised as Thorongil, as it was a famous heirloom of his house many could easily recognise. But, the man could not bring himself to not wear the ring at all, so he had bought a chain for it while he was serving in Rohan. Narsil, however, was safely hidden under the man's bed, wrapped in his clothes.

"Fancy seeing you here, Lord Aragorn," said a familiar mischievous voice behind Aragorn's back.

The newcomer approached the other man and came to stand beside him. The men looked at the Pelennor Fields, which surrounded Minas Tirith from three sides, in silence. The Ranger put his hands on the white wall and finally turned towards the other man.

"Gandalf, I did not think I would be meeting you here," he stated, smiling warmly. "It is wonderful to see you, though. Your presence brings hope."

The Wizard grinned back at Aragorn, "I briefly passed through Edoras on my way here. The Rohirrim, alongside their King and Prince, miss your strength and wisdom greatly," - he paused and stroked his long grey beard - "you have acquired the trust and love of the people of Gondor as well, I hear."

Aragorn nodded.

"But lo, not everyone loves me here. The Steward's son dislikes me greatly, but I cannot bring myself to return his feelings. For, save a few individuals, the citizens, and even the Steward, seem to prefer my council over his. Lord Denethor feels like I am threatening his future position, but I do not desire to lead this land, at least not at present," replied the Ranger, sighing. "Besides, if I ever returned here to claim the throne of my ancestors, the position of the Stewards would still remain."

"Denethor is a wise man, it is a pity he thinks so foolishly," remarked Gandalf. "Alas, let us not speak of this any more right now. I am very happy to announce that Beleg, your horse, has safely arrived at Imladris. I was told by the Elves he was weary of his journey, but was quickly nursed back to good health. However, it seems like the winter of his life is approaching."

Aragorn grew sad at the Wizard's words, "He has lived a happy life and served me better than any horse ever has. I am glad to hear he managed to survive the long and perilous journey and is resting in his home now, as he deserves."

"As for Lady Arwen," continued Gandalf, successfully catching the other man's attention. "She was getting ready to depart to Lothlórien when I last visited Imladris. The Lady seemed more thoughtful than before, and I often caught her looking almost melancholy, for she only dropped her radiant smile when she thought no one could see her. When I spoke of you, it seemed as if a fire burnt in her eyes, similar to the look that takes over your face when I speak of her."

Aragorn flushed in delight and looked down at his hands.

"However, I do not have the time to idly stand here, on the wall of the Citadel, and converse with you, my friend. I must go to the Tower Hall now, and ask for permission to use the Citadel's library from the Steward. You are welcome to accompany me if you wish."

The men walked to the throne room and stood a few metres from the Steward, who seemed to be having a rather heated discussion with his son. Upon noticing the duo, Ecthelion stopped speaking at once and rose from his throne. He walked towards them and left Denethor standing beside the stone chair.

"Thorongil, _Mithrandir_ , good morning," exclaimed the Man, spreading his hands in a welcoming manner. "Denethor and I were just talking about your upcoming mission, Thorongil," - he turned his gaze from the Ranger to Gandalf - "I did not know you were coming to visit, _Mithrandir_."

"My Lord, I came here to ask for permission to use your library for research," said the Wizard and Ecthelion nodded.

"I grant you permission, _Mithrandir_."

The Wizard bowed his head and after giving Aragorn a meaningful look, walked towards the library.

  
  


A few days later, Aragorn was on the balcony of his room. However, his mind was far away, over the snowy tops of the Misty Mountains, in a valley that was very familiar to him. He was pulled out his thoughts by the door opening and Gandalf stepping in.

"You wanted to see me before I left, Aragorn?"

"Indeed, my old friend," - the man left the balcony - "I wanted to give you something, hoping you could pass it on to Lady Evenstar or someone else in Imladris."

The Ranger walked to a nearby table and opened a drawer. He took out a red silk bag and opened it. Within the bag laid a small pendant on a slim silver chain. It was the White Tree of Gondor, made of silver with a white gem in the middle. Aragorn gently caressed the necklace and put it back into the bag. He handed it to the Wizard, who put it into an inner pocket of his robe.

"I will not pass through Lothlórien, for I am taking the road in the Gap of Rohan to return to Eriador. But I will surely give your gift to one of the brothers, or Lord Elrond, so they could pass it on to her," promised Gandalf.

" _Hannon le, mellon nîn_ ," the Ranger smiled brightly. " _Na lû e-govaned vîn_ ." _(Thank you, my friend; Until next we meet)_

  
  


Denethor pulled Aragorn aside as he was walking back to his house from the meeting in the Tower Hall.

"We need to talk," said the man and tugged the Ranger onto the wall of the Citadel, into the same place where he had talked with Gandalf two weeks prior.

What do you need to talk about, my Lord?" asked Aragorn, looking curiously at the Steward's son.

"What is your name, stranger? For it is certainly not Thorongil, do not even try to lie to me," hissed Denethor. "You are of Isildur's line, are you not?"

"I must compliment you, my Lord, for figuring it out. Indeed, my name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I am a descendant of Isildur. But I must ask you, how did you realize?" wondered the Ranger.

"The spring after you started service under my father, flowers bloomed under the White Tree, and they would not wither, even in winter. No plant, except grass, has ever grown under that tree. Yet, I could not say anything for certain back then. I stopped doubting myself when I saw you fingering this while you were talking with _Mithrandir_ ," - he reached for the chain around the other man's neck and pulled the ring out - "this is the Ring of Barahir, an heirloom of the house of Elendil, is it not? I could never mistake it for anything else."

The men stared at each other for a few moments.

"Why are you here? Gondor does not have a King, nor does it need one! The people are happy to be ruled by the Stewards," declared Denethor, pulling at Aragorn's coat lapels angrily.

"I am not here to claim the throne, if that is what you are thinking. I do not desire to rule this kingdom, only to help the land of my people to free themselves from the clutches of Evil."

The Steward's son huffed, let go of the other man, and walked away proudly. The Ranger only shrugged, hid his ring under the shirt once again, and continued his journey home.


	9. Battle of the Havens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains detailed violence and bloodshed.

Aragorn was pacing in front of the Steward's chair, trying to contain his excitement. Umbar's corsairs had been constantly raiding trade ships, fisher boats and the Gondorian Navy for the past few months, and the Ranger's worry about the damage they were doing had been increasing with each new attack. He had been trying to persuade the Steward to give him permission to attack Umbar, but to no avail.

"My Lord, we must attack them, for they will destroy our coasts if we lay idle," insisted Aragorn, pausing his pacing to look at Ecthelion.

"What do you propose? Letting our soldiers die in a battle one cannot possibly win?" wondered Denethor, who was leaning on a nearby pillar, glaring at the Ranger aggressively. "Why should we waste their lives and order them to go against an enemy whose true numbers we do not know?"

Denethor had grown more verbally violent towards Aragorn after he had discovered the other man's true heritage. The Steward's son was constantly searching for opportunities to speak against the Ranger.

"Restrain your anger, my son," ordered the Steward at last. "Thorongil is right, we cannot let the forces of the Enemy damage our land any more. We have suffered great loss because of them, but now it is time for revenge. I grant you permission, my most loyal servant," - at those words, Denethor's eyes flashed with burning rage against Aragorn - "to gather a fleet of ships and go against our enemy."

Aragorn bowed his head, "Thank you, my Lord. I will not fail you."

The Man then walked away from the Tower Hall, and into his quarters to start planning the attack.

  
  


" _Echuio, Estel_ ," whispered a woman's voice. _(Wake up, Estel)_

The Ranger opened his eyes and realized he was no longer in his bed in Minas Tirith, but in a forest, surrounded by tall trees with silver-grey barks and green leaves, which were silver underneath. He sat up and looked around in confusion, trying to understand where he was. After studying his surroundings for a short moment, the Man realized he was in Lothlórien, in the middle of a _mellyrn_ forest. 

Suddenly, a woman in a white dress appeared in front of him and Aragorn looked up. The woman's face was barely visible, for the Sun was shining brightly behind her. The Ranger saw the lady's long golden locks, which came down to her hips. She was wearing a long pearly white dress, which covered her bare feet. Upon standing up, Aragorn realized that the woman was Galadriel, the Lady of Lórien.

" _Hiril vuin_ ," exclaimed the Man, bowing his head. " _Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn_ ." _(My Lady; A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting)_

" _Mae g'ovannen, Estel_ ." _(Well met, Estel)_

"Am I dreaming, my Lady?"

"Yes, it is a dream, but not an ordinary one. But that does not matter now, for we have urgent matters to discuss. After the battle, you must not return to Minas Tirith. Instead, you will head east. You will journey towards Ephel Dúath, for there are people who need your help there. When you are done, you can return to Lothlórien, and here you shall rest from your journey."

"My Lady -"

" _Losto vae, Estel_ ," whispered Galadriel, and Aragorn suddenly felt his eyelids grow heavy. " _Na lû e-govaned vîn_ ." _(Sleep well, Estel; Until next we meet)_

  
  


The Ranger was standing on the nose of the ship, deep in thought. He was pondering over his meeting Lady Galadriel. He had no doubt that it had not been a mere dream, but a vision sent by the Lady of Lórien, and he had to act according to her commands. So, before he had left Minas Tirith, the Man released Revion so he could go back to his home stables to serve the King of Rohan, who had gifted the horse to the Ranger all those years ago. 

But lo, King Thengel had died on the fourth day of that year, and Prince Théoden had succeeded him. Théoden, surprisingly, had a successor to the throne already, for his wife, Elfhild, who had unfortunately surrendered to exhaustion before she could hold his son for the first time, had given birth to Théodred, who he was now two years of age. Just a few weeks prior to the child's birth, another one had been born, and it was Boromir, son of Denethor, son of Steward Ecthelion.

Aragorn looked out into the distance, trying to determine the fleet's location. He could vaguely make out the lines of the buildings of the Havens of Umbar through the thick fog that was taking over the gulf. Gondor's ships would arrive at their destination in the next half an hour, as the wind was swiftly pushing them forward. 

Ecthelion could unfortunately spare him only sixty three ships and nine hundred warriors and sailors. But the Ranger was not discouraged by their little numbers, for he knew all of them were brave and strong. 

According to plan, fifty three ships were to land on the quays, and the remaining ten would focus on burning as many Umbarim ships as they could. The Gondorian Navy soundlessly approached the havens, trying to remain invisible to the eyes of the enemy. The first ships docked carefully, and men, led by Aragorn, snuck towards the buildings. Suddenly, a loud horn was blown in the seemingly empty docks, echoing between the buildings and the ships. The guards of Umbar had noticed them!

"Ready yourselves for battle!" cried Aragorn and unsheathed his sword. "Do not fear death, my brothers!"

All around him, the metallic sound of blades being taken out could be heard. Aragorn looked back at the warriors for the last time, before turning, and charging into the slowly thinning fog. His blade was met with another one, and he found himself eye to eye with an Umbarim guard. The Man swung his sword and defeated the foe in a matter of seconds, for not many could stand against him. He pulled out his bow and quickly shot an Umbarim soldier who was trying to attack one of Aragorn's soldiers. Said Gondorian turned around and nodded at the Ranger gratefully.

"Thorongil, to your left!" yelled Eldacar, one of the commanders of the Gondorian Navy, and Aragorn swished around, parrying the blow coming from an Umbarim warrior in the process.

The two men moved so the Ranger's back was facing the other man's, effectively protecting each other from blows from behind, and circled around. They fought off multiple enemies, for their foes were not giving the men time to breathe.

Suddenly Eldacar turned his head and gave out an angry yell, "Thorongil, the Captain of the enemy is over there," - he pointed towards the stairs - "go, I can hold them off alone. You must kill their leader."

Aragorn looked at the other man uncertainly, but nodded. He fought his way out of the throng of foes and ran towards the stairs leading to the upper parts of the Haven. The Ranger had to use both his bow and sword to fend off the soldiers who were blocking his way, but at last, reached the top. He found himself eye to eye with the Captain of Umbar.

"So we meet at last," exclaimed the man. "Your reputation precedes you, Thorongil, a stranger from the North. People tell me you are one of the greatest, if not the best, fighters Rohan and Gondor have seen for a long time. Today, we shall put it to the test."

The two men charged at each other and their blades clashed. Aragorn tried to strike the Captain but the other man easily deflected the blow with his sword. The Ranger withdrew for a moment and quickly pulled out his knife, blocking an incoming attack with it. He dodged what would have been a fatal blow, and jumped on a nearby stair. He sheathed his knife and approached the other man once again. Aragorn charged and managed to disarm the Captain. He pushed his enemy to the ground and put the tip of his sword to the other man's throat.

"This is for Gondor and Steward Ecthelion."

Aragorn pushed his blade and cut into his throat, piercing his trachea and spinal cord in the process. Blood spurted on his clothes and face, but he ignored it. The Ranger quickly cleaned his blade from blood and turned around, running back to the battlefield.

As Aragorn was battling with the Captain, the ten remaining ships worked on burning the enemy's boats. Most of them were already in high flames, and more were set on fire with every passing minute. The man watched the burning vessels for a moment before turning back to the battle. Umbar had suffered great loss, and after noticing their burning ships, were rapidly losing hope.

"The Captain is dead, everyone, flee for your lives!" cried a raspy voice in despair.

It seemed as if all Umbarim soldiers were frozen for a moment, for they were stilled with terror at the news of their Captain's death. Upon regaining their bearings, they started fleeing towards the southern entrance of the Haven. The Gondorian soldiers managed to slaughter many of the retreating Umbarim before they could escape.

"Sons of Gondor, my brothers," yelled Aragorn and hopped on a brick that had fallen off of a house. "You have fought bravely, and for that, you shall be rewarded generously. Let us sail home to Minas Tirith now."

The Ranger's short speech was met with loud cheers. The men went back to their ships and started their journey to Pelargir, the great havens on the southern shores of Gondor. The men rejoiced over their victory, and for their brave Captain. But what they did not know, was that their beloved leader would soon leave them.

Upon reaching Pelargir, Aragorn knew it was time for him to depart. He ordered for someone to bring him a boat and gathered all his belongings. However, before he could leave, Eldacar rushed to him, and looked upon him sadly.

"Where are you going, Lord Thorongil?" wondered he. "Great praise and honour is waiting for you back in the White City. Your men need their leader."

"I must leave, Eldacar, for my path in these lands has ended, and important deeds need to be completed. But please, pass the following message to the Steward: 'Other tasks now call me, my Lord, and much time and many perils must pass before I come again to Gondor, if that be my fate.' "

After those words, Aragorn embraced Eldacar, and for the last time for many years, stood on the shores of River Anduin. He gently placed the sheath which contained the shards of Narsil into the boat and gingerly stepped in himself, followed by two men who were to row the boat back. He rode over the river, and after bidding farewell to his companions, set off into the east.

Aragorn completed many deeds while journeying in the east. He slew countless beasts and servants of Mordor. His alias, Thorongil, became feared in the hearts of the foes of the Free People. However, in his thoughts, he was already resting under the silver-green _mellyrn_ of Lothlórien.


	10. The Golden Realm

Aragorn walked between the tall trees of Lothlórien, searching for a path to Caras Galadhon, the capital of the Elven-realm. His deeds in the east had, at last, been completed, and he was more than ready to rest in the Golden Realm for some time.

The Ranger had just found a path, when he heard low voices speaking in Sindarin. He stopped at once and gazed up at the treetops, looking for the Elves' hiding place. He noticed the wooden platform in a few moments, as it was illuminated by a faint light.

" _Daro!_ " hissed a voice, and Aragorn stopped at once. _(Halt)_

The Ranger saw a faint outline of a blonde Elf in a grey cape with a brooch in the shape of a _Mallorn_ leaf. The _Ellon_ was pointing an arrow at the Man. _(Male Elf)_

" _Prestad, Orophin_ ?" called a voice from above. _(Is there trouble, Orophin?)_

" _Adan_ ," replied the Elf, glaring at the Ranger suspiciously. _(A Man)_

" _Le suilon_ ," said Aragorn, bowing his head. " _Im Aragorn Arathornion_ ." _(I greet you; I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn)_

At those words, a ladder was dropped from the top of the _Mallorn_ as a sign for them to climb up. The _Ellon_ glanced at him for the last time before taking a hold of the ladder and bestowing the Ranger to follow him. Aragorn gave the other man a short head start and then went up as well.

They came up in the middle of a dimly-lit platform made out of smooth grey _Mallorn_ wood. There were three people besides Aragorn and the _Ellon_ , all of them Elves. The Ranger noticed all of them were wearing grey cloaks, accompanied by the leaf brooch, which made them hardly visible to the naked eye.

On the edge of the platform stood a silver blonde Elf, who was eyeing the Man curiously. He had grey eyes which shone brightly in the starlight, and was very similar in appearance to the Elf who had brought him up the tree. 

" _A Aragorn in Dúnedain istannen le ammenI_. _I eneth nîn_ _Haldir_ ," said the Elf. _(Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us. My name is Haldir)_

Aragorn bowed his head.

"My companions do not speak Common Tongue well, but I am almost fluent, as I have travelled outside of Laurelindórinan many times. Lady Galadriel told me you would come here, but she did not tell me when you would be arriving. I am glad to finally lay my eyes on you, for I have heard many things about you," continued Haldir, not failing to notice the Ranger's amazement upon mentioning Galadriel. "Do not be surprised, the Lady foretold your coming weeks ago. But enough of that right now. I am to bring you to Caras Galadhon by the secret Galadhrim roads. We shall depart in the morning."

Aragorn nodded and set his bag onto the floor of the platform. He was bestowed to sit down by one of the Elves, and was given a blanket to stay comfortably warm during the chilly summer night.

"These are my brothers, Orophin and Rúmil," - Haldir pointed to the two Elves sitting on either side of him, and then to the last Elf - "and he is Calanon."

The Ranger greeted the three Elves in Sindarin and settled down more comfortably.

Haldir handed him a piece of bread wrapped in _Mallorn_ leaves, "This is the Elven waybread, or _Lembas_ , as we call it. One bite is enough to keep a grown Man on his feet for the whole day."

Aragorn thanked the Elf and unwrapped the leaves, revealing a light brown piece of bread. The Man carefully tore a small piece and saw it was creamy white on the inside. Upon biting into it, _Lembas_ had a subtle taste of honey to it, and it was a little sweet. The Ranger concluded it was much tastier than Cram, the waybread made by the Men of Lake-town.

  
  


The next morning, Aragorn with Haldir and his companions started their journey to the capital. They crossed River Celebrant using two ropes tied either side of the shore. The Elves could easily cross using only one rope, for they were naturally light on their feet and ran over it like it was a smooth pathway. The Man, however, took his time, and walked on two ropes. The sight was so funny that the Elves were in fits of laughter by the time he had finally made it over to the other side. Rúmil untied the ropes and tossed them over the river to Calanon, who had not crossed, as he was to return to the Elves' watchpost at once.

The company then entered Caras Galadhon. Aragorn marvelled at the first sight of the capital of the Elven-realm. The houses were all built on platforms like the one he had slept on the previous night, and most of them were only accessible by climbing a ladder. The path was lined with gardens of various shapes and sizes, and a few Elven children could be seen playing games or reading.

However, what caught Aragorn's eye, was the big _Mallorn_ tree in the centre of the city. It held a magnificent palace with long windows in its crown. The hall could be reached by grand stairs, which came up to about half of the tree, and the bottom half was only accessible by climbing a long ladder.

"This, Aragorn, is the house of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Do not fear the climb, for there are a number of _Talan_ , or flets, as they are called in Common Tongue, on the way up, where one can rest for as long as they need. I shall go first, and you shall follow right after me. My brothers must leave us to return to our watchpost."

Haldir's brothers bid farewell to the Ranger and walked away.

  
  


Aragorn, at last, half an hour after he had begun the agonising climb, stood in front of Galadriel and Celeborn. Haldir had left upon their arrival. The Lady had not changed since the Ranger had seen her in his dream, but she bore a crown made of tiny star-shaped yellow flowers, known as elanor, on her head. Celeborn had long silver hair which was up to his armpits. His eyes were light grey and his face was ageless. The Lady and Lord walked towards him hand in hand and Aragorn bowed his head.

"Welcome to Lothlórien, Aragorn, son of Arathorn," said Galadriel.

But to the Man's astonishment, the Elf's lips did not move when she spoke. For she had the gift of telepathy, and could enter one's thoughts.

 _"Do not fear, I will not gaze into your more intimate and private thoughts."_ Aragorn visibly sighed in relief and Celeborn chuckled quietly, as he was always greatly amused by his wife's gift's first impression on strangers.

"Could you please tell us of your deeds after the battle in Harad?" asked Galadriel and the Man nodded.

Celeborn ordered for a chair and bestowed the Ranger to sit. Galadriel and Celeborn sat down onto their thrones and Aragorn recounted his journey to the Elves.

  
  


A few hours after Aragorn had left Galadriel and Celeborn's home, he was walking between the tall _mellyrn_ trees, twirling an Elanor between his fingers and cheerfully humming the Song of Beren and Lúthien in Sindarin. The trees bore green, silver from below, leaves, and they would not drop them in autumn. For _mellyrn_ were not like the ordinary trees, their leaves turned a clear gold in autumn and stayed on the trees the whole winter, and at last, fell in spring, when golden flowers bloomed on branches, and new leaves sprouted, turning the entire forest brilliantly golden.

Aragorn was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a very familiar voice calling his name. He turned around and locked eyes with none other than Arwen Undómiel. The woman was running towards him with her raven hair, neatly braided, flowing in the wind. She wore a beige dress which was hugging her lean body and she had no shoes, for the forests of Lothlórien had no treacherous rocks that would cut one's feet when walking barefoot.

Upon reaching the Ranger, the maiden threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. Aragorn inhaled deeply and gently placed his hands around Arwen's slim waist. The couple stayed in an embrace for a long moment, before the Man pulled away and smiled at the _Elleth_ brightly and she, in return, let out a bubbling laugh. _(Female Elf)_

" _Gellon ned i cenin i chent lîn ned i lelil_ ," whispered the Ranger and the woman's cheeks flushed with pleasure at his words. _(I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh)_

Aragorn gently caressed Arwen's cheek and kissed her forehead. His hand gently combed through her hair while his other hand grabbed the woman's hand. The maiden gave him one last smile before moving away, and still grasping his hand, led him on top of a nearby hill, Cerin Amroth, where the majority of elanor in Lothlórien grew. On that hill, the couple faced each other once again.

"You look as beautiful as you were on that evening in Imladris almost thirty years ago," complimented Aragorn.

And that statement was true, for the maiden looked as if she had not aged a day. Her eyes, though, reflected the worry and longing of the past thirty years, but that was leaving quickly, and love and happiness was taking its place.

Aragorn, however, had changed a lot since their last meeting. He had grown a beard, and even though he was only forty nine years of age, his face bore wrinkles. But his grey eyes were still shining brightly, and they had the Faith of Men in them. He was wearing a grey tunic, a gift from the Elves, instead of his usual muddy Ranger clothes. The outfit made him look like a High Elven Lord.

"Long years have passed since the day we first met. You did not have the worries you carry now," - Arwen smoothed over a wrinkle on Aragorn's cheek - "but I was afraid to love you then. I do not fear my feelings now."

"I would eagerly listen to people if they bore news of you, my radiant Lady. Many have said my eyes lit up every time you were mentioned in conversation. I could not stop loving you even if I tried."

Aragorn looked at his Elven-maiden and suddenly noticed the piece of jewelry she was wearing. He gasped softly and brought his hand to it, carefully caressing the White Tree pendant, as it was the very necklace he had given to Gandalf when he was serving in Gondor.

"You kept it, and you are wearing it."

"I have worn it almost every day since it was brought to me by Elladan and Elrohir when they visited me. It served as a fond memory of you."

"I found it while browsing the market for a new chain in Minas Tirith. When I saw it, it instantly made me think of you, and how beautiful it would look around your neck."

Arwen looked up at the Man seriously.

"I choose you, Aragorn," she whispered. "When the time comes, I will bid farewell to _Ada_ and my kin and I will be yours and you shall be mine." _(Father)_

"Are you sure about this, my Lady? You will never see your Father again, and you could even reunite with your Mother if you left for the Undying Lands."

"I choose a Mortal life."

"Then I shall make you the Queen of Gondor," declared Aragorn, eyes flashing fiercely with determination. "For the daughter of Elrond _Peredhel_ of Imladris and Celebrían of Lothlórien does not deserve less." _(Half-elven)_

Arwen admired the Man, for while he was speaking, his face seemed royal, and carved into stone like the Kings of Old. She knew he would someday become a great King.

"Arwen, I will give you my ring, the Ring of Barahir," - Aragorn took off his ring and placed it into the woman's hands, encircling them with his own - "as a promise. I vow to love you until the day I die, and I will never love another."

Arwen brought their arms up to her chest, securely holding the ring in her palms. She looked at the Ranger and smiled brightly. Aragorn leaned in and their lips, at last, after so many years of waiting, met in a slow, loving kiss.

And so it was, on the evening of Midsummer, twenty nine years after they had first met, Arwen Undómiel and Aragorn Elessar saw each other once again, and on the hill of Cerin Amroth, in the glades of Lothlórien, they pledged their troth.


	11. Mines of Moria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Graphic mentions of wounds.

For the past year and a half, Aragorn had been residing in Lothlórien. His strength had fully returned and he was prepared to, once again, face the forces of Evil. But, the Ranger had not been idle during his downtime. For he had trained with the Galadhrim Elves and improved both his shooting and fencing skills. He had become great friends and companions with Haldir and his brothers, and his love towards Arwen Undómiel had bloomed. Aragorn had also discovered that the  _ Elleth _ was a great fencer, as she would often come out as winner in the couple's sparring sessions.  _ (Female Elf) _

But as of late, disturbing news had reached the Ranger in Lothlórien. He heard that the Ranger Elgaborn had been caught by the Orcs of Moria and was imprisoned somewhere in the ancient Dwarven-halls. So naturally, Aragorn, being the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, had told Galadriel and Celeborn he wanted to venture into Moria to try to rescue his companion.

"Very well, you shall face the Goblins in Moria, and save your fellow Ranger," said Galadriel in her mellow voice. "However, you shall not go without our aid. You will be given the cloak of our people to make you less visible to the eyes of the enemy. We will also give you a supply of Lembas, so you would not grow hungry during your perilous journey. Lastly, you shall be supplied with a fresh quiver of Galadhrim arrows."

"I thank you for the kindness of you and your people, my Lady," Aragorn courtly bowed his head.

"Aragorn, I will give you advice on passing through Moria safely, for the once great Dwarven-halls are now swarmed with Goblins and other evil things," spoke Celeborn. "Enter Moria through the Great Gate in  _ Nanduhirion _ . Once you are inside, go through the First Hall, and cross the great Bridge of Khazad-dûm. After that, you will find yourself in the Second Hall, and there, you should try to find a tunnel on the right side of the wall that will take you up to the Chamber of Mazarbul. From there, continue into the Twenty-first Hall and to the Chamber of the Crossroads. Finally, you will have to cross the Great Delving and then you will find yourself in the Durin's Threshold. The Gate of Durin cannot be opened without the password from the outside, but inside, you only need to push it a little, and it will open. 

"Do not stray away from the path and venture into the depths of Moria, for there, such Evil resides that even you, a strong Ranger of the North, cannot conquer. Your journey will not be easy, and for the sake of my granddaughter, I hope you survive it. Arwen would be devastated if anything happened to you."

Aragorn nodded, "Thank you for your kind advice, my Lord. I will do everything in my power not to be harmed."

"As it is expected. Farewell, and good luck, Aragorn of the Dúnedain."

The Ranger looked at Caras Galadhon for the last time in many years. He then turned back to his companions and fastened the straps of his backpack. He had once again put on his old Ranger gear, and the only new article of clothing was the grey cape held together by a green  _ Mallorn _ leaf brooch.

Aragorn was accompanied by Haldir and his brothers, and Arwen, who was adamant on seeing him to the border. The Man grabbed the  _ Elleth _ 's hand and squeezed it, smiling at her reassuringly. Together, the company made their way to the border of Lothlórien.

" _ Novaer, Aragorn _ ," said Rúmil and hugged the Man.  _ (Farewell, Aragorn) _

Orophin echoed his brother's words and hugged him as well. Next, the Ranger faced Haldir, who gave him a wide grin.

"May we meet again soon," exclaimed the  _ Ellon _ . "Have a safe journey through the dark and ancient Dwarven-halls."  _ (Male Elf) _

At last, Aragorn turned to Arwen, and the couple gazed at each other sadly. The Man pulled the  _ Elleth _ into a gentle embrace and kissed her forehead. He then pulled the maiden against his chest, and felt his neck become damp with tears. He pushed himself away and quickly dried the woman's cheeks, leaving his right hand caressing her face.

"Do not weep, my Lady," said Aragorn. "We will see each other again. Remember my promise, as I shall never forget yours."

The couple gave each other one last passionate kiss but stayed locked in a tight embrace.

" _ Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham, melamin _ ," the Man whispered, kissing the  _ Elleth _ 's brow.  _ (My heart shall weep until I see you again, my love) _

Aragorn, at last, extracted himself from the woman and before turning away, nodded at their other companions. He left them standing under the vernal  _ Mallorn _ trees and started his journey to the Great Gate of Moria.

Aragorn looked at the Gate in wonder. The Eastern gate of Moria was the oldest and principal entrance to the Dwarven-halls, and it was the only entryway until the creation of the Doors of Durin. It was decorated with tall archways and grand statues of the Dwarven-lords of old. The Ranger pushed the gate, expecting it to be heavy, but lo, it moved with ease. He inhaled the fresh air for one last time before stepping in.

Before approaching the gate, Aragorn had collected wood to make a fire, and lit a torch he had brought from Caras Galadhon. He was very glad he had thought of that, for Moria was pitch black, its only source of light coming from the air shafts. The Man looked up at the high ceiling and lo, colourful crystals, which had once served as ceiling lights, glowed faintly in the light of the torch. He wondered what the Halls had looked like before the invasion of Goblins, when the crystals had been lit and the Dwarves still lived and worked there.

Aragorn walked through the First Hall in a few hours, to his reckoning. For all he knew, the time could have been anything between two hours and a day. He, at last, arrived at the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. The bridge itself looked quite ordinary, it was a slender bridge of stone, without kerb or rail, slightly curved in the middle, and could only be crossed in a single file. It was an ancient defence against intruders who tried to take Moria from the Dimrill Gate and capture the First Hall, for it ran fifty feet across a wide pit falling to an unknown depth. Aragorn cautiously walked over the bridge, reluctant to produce too much light with his torch in fear of being noticed, but wary of misstepping and falling to his death. He felt like the place would be very significant to him in the future, but he did not know why.

  
  


The Ranger heard some Orcs talking and creeped along the shadows to reach them. They were conversing in a small chamber which could be entered from the Second Hall. He saw two Goblins who looked like guards. They were talking in a dialect of Common Speech, which could be understood roughly. Within a few minutes of listening, the Man realized they were talking about Elgaborn.

Suddenly, he heard a groan, followed by the sound of one of the Goblins hitting someone. He risked a glance around the corner and at once noticed the other Ranger bound in a less visible corner of the room. Aragorn quietly loaded his bow and peered into the chamber once again. He needed to be quick or the Orcs would raise an alarm that would summon the others. The Man waited until one of the Goblins was not facing the doorway and then quickly shot the other one. Before the second one could call out, he had killed both Orcs. He then walked into the room, holding out his sword just in case. After checking his surroundings, he rushed to Elgaborn and cut through his bounds.

"Thank you, my Lord," said Elgaborn once he had stood up.

Aragorn collected the two arrows from the Orc corpses and returned them to his quiver while the other Man was rubbing his hands, easing the cramps.

"How did you manage to find me?"

"I was in Lothlórien when I was made aware about your disappearance, so I decided to come here and try to find you."

"Thank you for not giving up on me," exclaimed Elgaborn, and pulled Aragorn into a hug.

"Do you know where they stored your weapons?" asked the younger man.

"Aye," replied the other man and walked towards a corner, pulling out his weapons after a few seconds of looking around.

The men set off after Elgaborn had gathered his belongings. Fortunately, the older Ranger knew the correct tunnel one was to enter to end up in the Chamber of Mazarbul, so it did not take them too long to find the entrance. They seldom saw enemies while walking through the tunnel, for the majority of the Goblins were working further down in the deeps of Moria, and only few of their ranks were guarding the central halls, as they were sure that no one would dare enter Moria.

As the Men were walking, Elgaborn told Aragorn more details about his journey and how he had been captured. He remembered with an amused smile how the Goblins had guarded the Halls with an increased force in fear of more intruders the first few days after his capture.

Within two hours of starting their journey, the Men had passed through the Chamber of Mazarbul and were heading for the Twenty-first Hall. Before entering, Aragorn shared half a piece of Lembas with Elgaborn. The older man had not tasted the Elven-bread before, and was pleasantly surprised by its sweet taste. When he was told of its nutritional values, he praised the Elves greatly.

At last, the two Rangers stepped into the hall. Aragorn looked around in awe. The Twenty-first Hall had a high ceiling which was lined with lean pillars, connected by stone archways. White and violet crystal chandeliers which had once lit up the great Mine, were hanging from the roof of the hall.

"Let us hurry up, my Lord," said Elgaborn. "This place makes me uneasy."

Aragorn nodded and started walking once again, throwing quick glances at the decorations on the walls and pillars. The men were about to cross the Western Arch of the Twenty-first Hall into a tunnel, when they heard an Orc horn from the Southern Arch. Elgaborn swore and turned around, looking at the younger man.

"Looks like we will have to fight our way out of here," sighed the older man and Aragorn nodded.

The Rangers loaded their bows and stood facing the South Arch, waiting for their enemies. They did not have to wait long, for the Orcs appeared within a few moments. Both men fired and two enemies fell, the others ignoring their corpses and running over them. Aragorn unsheathed his sword and ran towards the Goblins while Elgaborn stood on the stairs, shooting them from afar.

The younger man ran into the pack of Orcs, swinging his sword and knife around. The enemies quickly learned not to come too close to him, as he seldom missed his target. They were trying to form a circle around the fighting Ranger in an attempt to defeat him. The man himself did not see through the Goblins' plan as he was too busy with trying not to get killed.

Elgaborn, however, noticed what the Orcs were trying to accomplish at once. He started rapidly firing arrows towards the throng, trying to kill as many of them as possible. But due to his suddenly increased speed, his shots were sloppy, and many of his arrows did not hit the mark. Aragorn had been swiftly surrounded by the Orcs and he was out of breath, for he had not rested since he started his journey from Lothlórien that morning. He had not realized what the Goblins were trying to do until it was already too late.

The older Ranger cursed and put away his bow. He unsheathed his sword while he was running down the stairs and beheaded the Goblin who was standing in his way. He stabbed a knife into the next Orc's stomach and pushed on, killing the enemies who were stopping him from reaching Aragorn. His furious face made the Orcs scramble out of his way and break their circle, giving him enough time to reach the younger man. 

"Please try to pay attention to what your enemies are doing so you could avoid getting killed, my Lord," hissed Elgaborn as he beheaded another Goblin.

Aragorn nodded and stabbed an incoming warrior. His knife had Orc blood right up to its hilt and he knew it would be very hard to clean it later. But it was not the time to worry about such trivial problems, when there were still a few Orcs to kill. The man cut off the next Goblin's hand and then beheaded him with a swipe of the sword. The remaining body fell down into the floor and blood poured out of its neck and hand.

Suddenly Aragorn felt a burning pain on his side and he turned around to an Orc grinning at him. The Orc raised his sword once again to deliver a death blow, but was stopped by a blade going right through his chest. Elgaborn pulled out his sword and sliced the warrior's throat with his dagger, letting him fall onto the ground.

"Are you okay?" asked the Man.

Aragorn nodded, pressing a hand to his side to try to stop the wound from bleeding. Elgaborn opened his bag and tore off a piece of his shirt. He turned to the younger man and pressed the cloth to the wound, making the other Ranger hiss in pain.

"Try to secure the cloth so the wound would be covered. It must not get infected. I will try to clean it when we are out of these cursed Mines. But I cannot do much besides cleaning and dressing it, we must go to Rivendell where Lord Elrond will be able to help us," insisted Elgaborn. "Let us get moving now. We must get out of this hall."

Aragorn pulled back the other Ranger before he could move away and smiled at him, "Thank you, Elgaborn."

The Rangers set off to the Chamber of the Crossroads through a long winded tunnel which curved multiple times. Elgaborn noticed Aragorn starting to limp and he slowed his pace, cursing under his breath. He hoped they did not have to slow down too much, which would have increased the probability of being attacked, for he was not sure that he would be able to defend the both of them.

The men arrived at the Chamber two hours after setting off from the Twenty-first Hall. Aragorn was panting as he fell down against a wall, pressing his hand against his wounded side.

"Be careful, for there is a well going to unknown depths in the centre of this room," warned Elgaborn.

The younger man nodded and grunted in pain. He pulled out a bottle of water from his bag and took a long sip. He put it back into his bag and let his head fall against the wall in a groan.

"Let me rest for half an hour, then we shall press on," he whispered and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.

Elgaborn nodded and stood guard on the door of the chamber. Within a few minutes, Aragorn had fallen asleep, his hand still clutching his side and the other hand on the sheath which contained the shards of Narsil.

The older man glanced at the sleeping Ranger and let out a frustrated sigh. He was not sure how long Aragorn would last before he would get seriously sick from his wound. He knew there was no doubt that the wound was infected, as Aragorn's condition had worsened so rapidly. Their only hope was that the younger man could push it until Rivendell or that they would meet an Elvish scout who could ride out to get help from Imladris.

Elgaborn shook Aragorn awake after giving him two hours to regather his strength.

"We must continue moving, my Lord," he declared. "We do not have long left. Hopefully we will be able to reach Durin's gate by the end of a five-hour march."

The Ranger pulled the younger man up and pretended not to see him stumble and try to regain his balance. The men grabbed their bags and set off once again.

The Rangers, at last, after seven hours, stood in front of the Doors of Durin. Elgaborn pushed the doors lightly and they opened. The men stepped outside in the first light of the morning sun. The older man gave Aragorn a worried glance, for he had beads of sweat upon his brow, and his face was ghastly white with the first signs of a fever on it.

"I will tend to your wound once we are out of the Walls of Moria and have put some distance between the Mines and ourselves," said Elgaborn. "This lake makes me feel great unease."

Aragorn nodded, for he, too, did not feel safe staying near the muddy lake in front of the Doors of Durin. In addition, Orcs might have tried to come after them in search of revenge. So, the Men set off towards more safer lands.

"Let us rest now, my Lord," spoke Elgaborn once they had reached the grassy plains of the High Hollin and found a more secluded spot where they could set up camp.

Aragorn let out a sigh and crumbled onto the ground. His feeble body, normally capable of sixteen or more hours of marching, had been spent completely by the ten-hour journey. Elgaborn rushed to the younger man's side and gingerly took off the cloth. The wound was violently red and swollen, and it was hot to the touch.

"I noticed a stream on the way here. I will return with the water in a few minutes," the older Ranger said and Aragorn nodded drowsily.

It took Elgaborn a few minutes to find the stream. He filled both his and the other man's bottles. Upon looking around more, he noticed a patch of  _ Athelas _ , Kingsfoil, under a nearby branch. The man let out a surprised yell and rushed to it. He cut a few plants and put them into his bag.

As the man was crouching down cutting the  _ Athelas _ , he felt a blade on his throat. The Ranger's face went white and he froze.

"What’s this? A Ranger, caught off his guard?" asked an Elvish voice and Elgaborn sighed in relief.

He turned his head and was faced with Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir. The Ranger picked up his bag and stood up.

He bowed his head, "It is most fortunate you are here, my Lords. I was caught in Moria and Lord Aragorn came to save me. While we were fighting in the Twenty-first Hall, Aragorn was stabbed with an enemy's blade. The wound has been infected and needs Master Elrond's attendance at once. I left him in a nearby camp and came to find water to clean the wound."

The Elves' faces darkened at the Ranger's words. Elgaborn took them to the camp the Men had set up earlier.

Upon seeing Aragorn, the Elves' faces paled. Elladan, having learned healing techniques from his Father, took the  _ Athelas _ and water from Elgaborn and kneeled down beside the young Man.

" _ Gi suilon, Elladan _ ," whispered Aragorn with a feverish smile, then noticing the other two Elves. "Glorfindel and Elrohir, too. I am glad to see you."  _ (I greet you, Elladan) _

" _ Sevig thû úan, Estel _ ," replied the  _ Ellon _ and the Ranger let out a pained laugh.  _ (You smell like a monster, Estel) _

Elladan carefully took off the piece of cloth from Aragorn's skin and winced at the state of the injury. He rinsed the wound with water and chewed up some  _ Athelas _ , before placing it onto the gash. Elgaborn handed the  _ Ellon _ a fresh piece of his shirt and he dressed it again.

"He needs to be taken to  _ Ada _ as quickly as possible," the Elf insisted. "I shall give up my horse and follow with Elgaborn on foot. Glorfindel and Elrohir, you will bring Aragorn to Imladris on my horse."  _ (Father) _

The Elves in question nodded. Elrohir took Aragorn's bag and Glorfindel took all of his weapons. Elgaborn helped the younger man to his feet and with great difficulty, helped him on Elladan's horse. The two Elves got on their horses as well and looked at the  _ Ellon _ and Man standing.

"Be careful, for the road is dangerous," said Glorfindel.

"I will be fine, for I have the son of Elrond Half-elven in my company," chuckled Elgaborn. "You are the ones who should be careful. Do not let Lord Aragorn fall from his horse or the servants of the Enemy see you."

"Ride hard, do not look back," added Elladan.

Glorfindel nodded and the three horses rode away.

"Can you continue marching for a few hours?" asked Elladan and Elgaborn nodded. "Then let us not stop before nightfall, for this region is not as safe as it once was. As we are walking, you should tell me about your journey through the cursed Dwarven-mines."

Elrohir, Glorfindel and Aragorn rode through the gates of Imladris. Elrond met them at the Doors of the Last Homely House.

" _ Ada, boe de nestad _ ," said Elrohir and jumped off his horse.  _ (Father, he needs healing) _

"What happened to him?" asked Elrond, giving the Ranger a concerned glance. "And, Elrohir, where is your brother?"

"Aragorn got stabbed by an Orc in Moria. Elladan gave up his horse so we could bring Aragorn here faster, he is with the Ranger Elgaborn, they are following us on foot," replied Elrohir.

"Alright. Glorfindel, Elrohir, please help Aragorn off the horse and follow me."

Glorfindel gracefully jumped off his horse and together with the other  _ Ellon _ , carefully dismounted the sick Ranger. They then, still supporting the man, followed Elrond to the Houses of Healing.


	12. Guard the Borders

Aragorn stepped into the Prancing Pony Inn and was immediately greeted with the smell of ale and pipesmoke. The inn was packed with customers - Men and Halflings alike. He pushed through the crowd to get to the counter and waited for the innkeeper to take notice of him. The burly man at last, after he had rung up some Halflings, ran up to him and sized him up.

"Ah, Strider, what can I get for you?" asked Barliman Butterbur and picked up a mug, polishing it with a grey rag.

"Just a bed for the night and something to eat, please," replied the Ranger.

The innkeeper nodded and vaguely waved his hand towards the direction of the bedrooms, "Your usual room is vacant."

Aragorn thanked the young man and went to the bedroom. After storing his belongings, he returned to the common room and ordered dinner for himself. He sat down behind a table in the corner of the room and tried to ignore the suspecting glares the inn-goers were sending him.

Over the years, Aragorn had visited Bree-town and the lands surrounding it many times. He had acquired the attention of the locals, who, naturally, did not know of his noble deeds. They only met him when he came to Bree-town, where he sometimes told them curious stories of the far-away lands. He was given the nickname Strider, or Stick-at-naught Strider, a scornful name in Aragorn's opinion, and was generally distrusted in the eyes of the Men and Halflings of Bree and the Shire.

"You have been forwarded my message, as it seems," exclaimed a familiar voice and Aragorn looked up from his plate.

The Ranger was faced with the piercing black eyes of Gandalf the Grey. The Wizard sat down beside Aragorn and gave him a friendly smile. He stopped a passing innworker and ordered food for himself. While he was waiting, he took out a pipe and started smoking in silence.

"Why have I been graced with the honourable presence of Gandalf the Grey?" wondered the Ranger, looking at the Wizard curiously.

"I have a task for you, and it is in need of utmost care," - Gandalf leaned closer - "but we cannot speak of it here, for we may be heard," he whispered.

"I propose going to my room where we can talk in peace," suggested Aragorn.

Gandalf nodded and both men finished their meals before standing up.

At last, the men sat down in comfortable chairs near the fireplace. They sat in silence, staring at the fire. Gandalf was smoking his pipe, occasionally blowing out neat smoke rings.

Finally, the Wizard spoke, pulling Aragorn out of his thoughts, "I need your help, Aragorn," - Gandalf paused to exhale a whiff of smoke - "as of late, certain sources of mine have noticed birds and animals gathering near the borders of the Shire. Also, Southerners, most likely from Dunland, have been spotted on the streets of Bree-town and even on the roads leading to the Shire. I do not know on whose accords they are spying, but the matter distresses me greatly. For a certain Hobbit, or Halfling, as Men call them, named Bilbo Baggins, has acquired something very curious on his travels, which I can tell you more about, since we are now in a secure location and do not have to look out for eavesdroppers."

Gandalf blew out a perfect smoke ring and started speaking.

"This story starts fifty nine years from now, on a beautiful day in spring. I had been approached by a Dwarf whose name even you might know, for he was Thorin Oakenshield, a year prior, and he had told me about his plan to re-establish his kingdom, Erebor. He had already recruited twelve other Dwarves, but he was in need of another member. Upon further inspection, I discovered that he had no idea how to even accomplish his wish. So I suggested a burglary, and volunteered to find him a fourteenth member of his Company.

"At start, the Dwarves were weary of having a Hobbit in their company, but in the end, they were very fortunate to have him. Alas, we shall not speak of it any more right now, you may ask the Hobbit himself about his journey when you meet him one day.

"The part of the journey that concerns us presently, is when the Company reached the Misty Mountains. It was a stormy night and we were sheltered in an abandoned cave, or at least we thought it was abandoned. At night, we were attacked by the Goblins to Goblin-town, for the cave, unbeknownst to us, was an entrance to their underground city. Fortunately, I was raised by Bilbo's cries and I was not taken captive unlike the others, or we would have surely perished. I followed the Company and managed to save them, killing the Great Goblin in the process. However, when we were escaping Goblin-town, Bilbo needed to be carried by a Dwarf, for he could not keep up with the others' pace. We were ambushed and the Dwarf who was carrying him at that moment dropped him. The Hobbit was knocked out and abandoned, for we did not notice his sudden disappearance. We barely managed to escape the caves.

"Bilbo was reluctant to tell me the following story, but I at last pried it out of him. He woke up a few hours later in complete darkness. Upon trying to regain his bearings, he stumbled upon a golden ring. He put it in his pocket without a second thought, and continued walking along the tunnel. The Hobbit found himself in a curious cave with an underground lake and an island in the middle. There he met Gollum, a mysterious creature I know practically nothing about. He was desperate to get out and agreed to play a riddle guessing game with the creature. They went back and forth a few times, guessing the other's riddle every time. He panicked and cheated on the last question, thus winning the competition. 

"However, Bilbo had made Gollum very angry. When he was running away from him, he stumbled, and accidentally put on the ring. To his astonishment, it made him invisible. He was saved from Gollum's wrath and managed to reunite with us after following the creature to a side-entrance of the Goblin halls. Bilbo told me Gollum had suspected he had found his ring, and was convinced that the Hobbit was trying to escape Goblin-town and knew the way, so he rushed to the entrance to try to stop him. Bilbo followed him and managed to get out of the caves. Upon finally reuniting with us, the Hobbit did not tell us the complete story of his escape, and left the ring out completely. We were astonished at his sudden appearance, and the Dwarves' respect for him grew.

"I heard that Bilbo told the whole story to the Dwarves when they were lost in Mirkwood. At that time, I was not present, for I had urgent business I needed to attend to, as the Council had finally been allowed to deal with the Necromancer, later revealed as Sauron, in Dol Guldur."

When Gandalf had finished his story, Aragorn pondered for a moment.

"Are you suggesting that the spies' master has caught wind of Bilbo Baggins' ring and is interested in finding it?" wondered the Ranger at last.

"That might be the case, but I do not know for sure. Rings of Power are desired by many, and I have a feeling that our Hobbit has stumbled upon one, and lo, quite a powerful one. Nonetheless, I am asking for your help on guarding the borders of the Shire," replied the Wizard.

"Very well, I shall help you," declared Aragorn and stood up from his chair, pacing around the room. "I am going to depart from Bree in the morning and head towards Esteldín, where I will talk to Halbarad, and together we shall appoint the best men we can find. In fact, I will spend some time guarding the borders myself."

"Thank you, Aragorn," Gandalf smiled widely.

  
  


Aragorn set out from Bree-town on the break of dawn the next day. Gandalf accompanied him to the Gate of Bree-town, before riding off to do his own private errands.

"Make haste for Esteldín, Aragorn," said Gandalf. "May you have no troubles on the road."

Aragorn looked up at the Wizard on the horse and bowed his head, "Wherever your errands may take you,  _ mellon nîn _ , I hope you are successful."  _ (My friend) _

Gandalf nodded and rode away, turning south on the Greenway road. The Ranger sighed, tightened the straps of his bag, and turned north on the road, facing the North Downs.

  
  


Aragorn stepped in from the gates of Esteldín eight days after starting his journey from Bree-town. He greeted various Rangers as he walked through the streets of the town, and at last, arrived at his house. He put away his bag and shedded his cape onto a chair in his room. He then ventured out into the meeting room, as he had asked a Ranger to fetch Halbarad and meet him there.

"Aragorn, it is wonderful to see you again," smiled Halbarad upon noticing the younger Ranger entering the room.

Aragorn returned the smile and walked up to the other man. He pulled him into a tight hug and patted his back.

After Aragorn's escape from Moria and his healing in Rivendell eighteen years ago, the man had seldom visited Esteldín. He had spent most of his time on the road, slaying servants of the Enemy.

"I wish I was here to be the bearer of good news and deeds," said Aragorn after pulling away from Halbarad. "But lo, I am here in request of Gandalf the Grey. He has passed on disturbing news which we need to act upon at once. From now on, the borders of Shire need to be guarded closely. Every spy sighted must be reported either to you or me. We must choose a band of most competent Rangers for the job, and I will join the ranks myself."

Halbarad listened to the man's speech with a stern face. When he had finished, the older man started pacing around the room, already devising a plan of action.

"I have a few Men in mind. I shall summon them at once."


	13. The Creature Gollum

Aragorn was sitting in the Hall of Fire reading an ancient book in Quenya. He had been summoned to Imladris by Gandalf, as the Wizard needed to tell the Ranger important news one could not safely pass via letters. But he was late to the meeting. The Ranger, thus, tried to calm his curiosity by reading the book while he waited for Gandalf to arrive.

Gandalf, at last, stepped into the hall and approached Aragorn. The Man, upon noticing him, closed his book and stood up.

"Welcome, Gandalf," said the Ranger, bowing his head.

The Wizard echoed his greeting and bestowed him to take a seat once again. Aragorn put his book onto his lap after sitting down once again. He then took a long moment to examine his companion. It seemed as if Gandalf had grown older within the past year, for even more lines of worry were etched onto his wise wrinkled face. His black eyes, however, still had their mischievous shine, and were reflecting the light coming from a nearby fireplace.

"What is it that you need to tell me that requires such secrecy?" wondered Aragorn.

"I was in the Shire, in Hobbiton, three months ago, for Bilbo Baggins' one hundred and eleventh birthday party. At the end of his birthday speech, the Hobbit used his ring and departed from Shire, never to return," - Gandalf paused and blew out a smoke ring - "however, on the morning of his departure, he admitted that the ring was tiring him greatly. I believe he used the phrase, 'like butter scraped over too much bread'. 

"During my visit, I also noticed he had barely aged a day since our quest to Erebor, which was over fifty years ago. I found the matter extremely curious. Hobbits have longer lifespans than Men and age slower, but it is impossible for them to age that slow. Lastly, it seemed as if the Hobbit was very fond of that ring, for he often unconsciously called it his precious, as a certain creature by the name of Gollum had once done. 

"The slowed aging, the power that ring has over its bearer, the ring's unordinary powers - all those facts lead me to fear that the ring Bilbo found was no ordinary Ring of Power, but the One Ring, the very ring Sauron forged in the Fires of Mount Doom."

Aragorn listened to the Wizard's tale and frowned, "Are you sure about this, Gandalf?"

"This leads me to the problem, my dear friend," sighed Gandalf, and put out his pipe. "For I do not know anything certainly, as this story started before the  _ Istari _ came to Middle-earth, and there are few records. Letters state that Isildur died in River Anduin after being attacked by Orcs, and the One Ring has been lost to the world ever since that dreadful day. It may have passed to the Great Sea, and it is now unattainable for us, but it may have also acquired a new bearer. 

"Where and when did Gollum get his ring? The creature surely was not born under the Misty Mountains. He had to have a home somewhere outside, at some point in time. But we do not have answers to those questions, for it seems like Gollum has left the safety of his dark cave. There have been reports of infants going missing from their cribs in riverside villages. Broken fishing nets have been found by fishermen with human-like footprints on the shore."

"Indeed, we need answers for those questions, my friend," agreed Aragorn. "I propose going after Gollum, you and me both. Together, we will be able to find the creature and then you shall get answers."

Gandalf nodded, "I am most thankful you offer to help me, and I accept. If you do not have any unfinished business, we shall leave tomorrow morning at the first light of the day, for our road is in no means short."

"But Gandalf, what becomes of this ring now? Did Bilbo Baggins take it with him when he left?" wondered the Man.

"Before Bilbo left, he gave away some of his smaller and less valuable things to his relatives and friends. But the house and that ring was passed onto his nephew and heir Frodo Baggins, who he fostered after the young Hobbit had become an orphan. Frodo knows of the ring and I have told him not to use or speak of it, but to hide it from the world. The ring should be in safe hands with him for now."

Aragorn nodded and stood up to leave, but was stopped by the Wizard, "Aragorn, before we leave, could you please send Halbarad an order to double guard on the borders of the Shire. I will not be able to visit the Hobbits so often, but I would like them to be safe from all harm. After all, one of them may be bearing the future of the Free Peoples on his shoulders."

The Ranger nodded and exited the hall. He then wrote a letter to Halbarad and brought it to the hands of one of Master Elrond's most trusted messengers.

  
  


The next morning, Gandalf and Aragorn were asked to meet Elrond in his study before departure. Upon their arrival, the Elf stood up from his desk and approached them.

"I wanted to talk to you both," - he looked the two men in the eye - "before you left. Your road to finding the creature Gollum will be perilous. However, I have no doubt you will survive, for you are great warriors. Where will you start your search?" asked Elrond.

"My Lord, we will be starting our journey by going north and facing the Misty Mountains. We will then go to the northern shores of River Anduin, where we will hopefully find signs of Gollum, as he has been sighted there before. Where we will go next, I do not know yet, we will follow in the creature's footprints," replied Gandalf.

Elrond nodded, satisfied, "I wish you luck on your journey."

Gandalf placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head, leaving the room. Aragorn stood his ground, silently looking at his foster father.

" _ Galo Anor erin râd lîn, Estel, _ " said the Elven-lord.  _ (May the sun shine upon your path, Estel) _

Aragorn smiled at the Elf and pulled him into a hug. Elrond froze in surprise but regained his bearings in a few seconds, putting his arms around the Ranger and returning the hug. The men embraced for some time, before the  _ Ellon  _ pulled away.  _ (Male Elf) _

" _ Novaer, Hîr Elrond _ ," said the Man and put his hand onto his heart, bowing his head.  _ (Farewell, Lord Elrond) _

" _ Galu, ionneg. _ "  _ (Good luck, my son) _

  
  


Aragorn and Gandalf followed the footprints of Gollum into a riverside village. They had crossed the Misty Mountains and even ventured into the underground Goblin Halls. As expected, they had found Gollum's cave to be long deserted by the treacherous creature, and huge lizards had taken the creature's place. The men had fought off the reptiles, but found no sign of when Gollum had left, for the beasts had destroyed every piece of evidence. Disappointed, the men had exited the Goblin caves and came out on the other side of the Misty Mountains. They did not meet any signs of Gollum on the road, so they set their course towards a nearby riverside village.

The residents of the village spoke horror stories of a strange slimy, Orc-like creature, who steals fish and babies in the dark. Although, it seemed as if Gollum had become a legend in that village, as last reports of the creature had come in a fortnight ago. It seemed as if he had left that settlement long ago.

Gandalf and Aragorn decided to stay the night in a local inn, as both men desired to sleep in a warm bed after the previous nights' strange sleeping arrangements. The men were eating dinner in the common room, when they were approached by a man.

"Good sirs," the stranger said and they looked up. "People say you came here asking about the slimy bastard who steals from our village. My men claim they noticed it just minutes ago when they were taking out their fishing gear from the river. We thought you might want to come and take a look at the creature."

Aragorn looked and Gandalf meaningfully. Gandalf nodded and then looked back at the newcomer, who, judging by his gear, also seemed to be a fisherman. 

"Lead us there," the Wizard said and stood up, picking up his staff from where it was leaning against the chair.

The hunters followed the fisherman to the docks, where they hid behind a nearby bush. They stood waiting for a few minutes and Aragorn strained his ears, trying to hear Gollum. In a few minutes, all three men could hear a pair of pattering feet approaching. The Ranger carefully looked out from behind their hiding place. What he saw was hideous.

The strange creature was pale and skinny. His ribs were sticking out and his bones were visible from almost every part of his body. His fingers were long and slender, and he was feeling the ground around him, as if he was searching for something. Gollum had a slender face with sunken cheeks and his mouth only had a few, but sharp, teeth left. His eyes were huge and bulging out of his skull, and they seemed to almost glow in the dark. The creature only had a few strands of dark hair left, and the rest of his skull was wrinkly. 

Gollum gave off a vile smell of bog water, rotten fish, and even blood. His whole body was covered in greenish slime which seemed to be the source of the smell.

Aragorn moved to unsheathe his sword but was stopped by Gandalf, who pressed a finger on his lips. The trio waited for the creature to come even closer. Gollum cautiously approached the men's hiding place, but did not realize they were there. He was interested in the fish that had been strategically placed there as bait by the men before. Gollum looked around warily before reaching for the fish. He then squatted down and gnawed at the food quietly.

Gandalf took off his hand from Aragorn's hilt and nodded towards Gollum. The men jumped out while unsheathing the blades. The creature let out a startled noise similar to 'gollum' and let the fish fall back into the dirt. He then jumped just out of the reach for the two hunters. Before they could seize him, he had run into the darkness, leaving only half-eaten fish and footprints.

Aragorn let out a disappointed sigh and unsheathed his sword, "You told me the creature looks vile, but I did not know he looks so hideous. Yet you could not mistake him for anyone else."

"My description comes from Bilbo's story. Gollum could have been killed fifty years ago, but he was spared by Bilbo," said Gandalf.

"It is a pity the man you speak of did not kill him," the fisherman spoke as he appeared out of the bushes. "The creature you call Gollum has killed three infants in our village, and ruined countless fish. He deserves to die."

Gandalf leaned on his staff and looked at the man, "Pity is what stopped Bilbo's hand all those years ago. Alas, I have a feeling Gollum will prove to be very important in the end of this story."

The Wizard turned his head and gazed into the darkness. He stood in silence for a few moments.

"It is useless to track him now. Gollum's eyesight is excellent in the dark and he is long gone now. We may try again in the morning," declared he.

The three men left the riverside and went back to the inn. Gandalf and Aragorn turned in for the night.

The next day, the hunters left the village at dawn. They returned to the place where they had seen Gollum the night before. Aragorn followed the footprints to the river, however, there the prints disappeared. The creature had swum across the river. The hunters could not pick up his trail once they had managed to find their way to the other bank. They had lost him.


	14. Onto the Road Again

"Follow me, Aragorn," said Gandalf upon entering the library. "I would like you to meet somebody."

Aragorn raised his eyes from the book he had been reading and looked at the Wizard. He had not noticed the other man enter the library. The Ranger nodded and stood up, putting his book back to its shelf. He then approached Gandalf and continued to walk alongside the other man.

"Who are you introducing me to?" wondered he.

The Wizard sent him a mischievous grin, "You will see for yourself, Aragorn."

The two men walked out of the Last Homely House and into the surrounding gardens. Aragorn grew more curious as they ventured further along the curved stone path. At last, he noticed a Halfling sitting on a bench surrounded by flower beds and hedges. He was talking to Arwen Undómiel animatedly.

Gandalf waved as they approached the duo. The Halfling looked away from Arwen and turned his gaze upon the Wizard.

"Gandalf, how nice it is for you to join us," - he jumped up from the bench and hugged Gandalf - "I was just telling Lady Arwen about our quest to Erebor."

The Wizard laughed and put his hand on the Halfling's shoulder. Aragorn locked eyes with Arwen and bowed his head in a court manner. The _Elleth_ gave him a dazzling smile in return. _(Female Elf)_

"Aragorn, I wanted you to meet Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit who accompanied the Dwarves to Erebor," said Gandalf after he had straightened up once again. "Bilbo, this is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is a Ranger of the North, and the Chieftain of the Dúnedain."

The Man and the Halfling gave each other a polite nod. Aragorn looked at Bilbo curiously.

The Halfling had curly brown hair, flecked with white and grey, a hint of his declining age. His eyes were light brown and they had a mysterious glint to them. Bilbo was wearing a light brown overcoat with a dark brown vest and a grey shirt underneath. He had simple brown pants which came down to his mid-calf. The Halfling's feet were bare and the hairs were neatly combed.

"It is an honour to finally meet you, Bilbo Baggins," exclaimed Aragorn in a polite tone. "I have heard stories of your mighty deeds with the Dwarves. The Elves of Imladris speak highly of you, and you are named Elf-friend amongst them."

"The pleasure is all mine, my Lord," replied Bilbo, his cheeks flushing because of the praise. "Hobbits tend not to trust the Rangers, but I do not share their feelings. Long have your kin protected our borders and kept evil from entering our lands, but lo, your presence is still frowned upon. Hobbits and residents of Bree-town give you scornful names and badmouth you behind your back. They do not know of your noble deeds, and it is better if they stay oblivious, for the Hobbits are a simple folk and most would not survive a war. I thank you for guarding my people regardless of what they tell you."

The Ranger smiled at the Halfling and thanked him for his kind words. Aragorn and Gandalf moved to sit down with Bilbo and Arwen. They conversed about Thorin and the Company's journey to Erebor.

"I remember when the Company came to Imladris, for I was raised here amongst the Elves since I was little. I was still a small boy, barely ten years of age. I did not know of my true heritage, and I had been called Estel by Lord Elrond. I was terribly curious of your expedition, but too intimidated to actually come and talk with the Dwarves. I satisfied my curiosity by questioning Glorfindel, which used to annoy him greatly," recounted Aragorn, laughing fondly at the memory.

Bilbo gave the Ranger a surprised look, "Indeed, I remember a young boy running around Rivendell, sometimes escorted by Lord Glorfindel, from the times I was here. I was surprised as to why a human child was living amongst the Elves. When I asked Gandalf about you, he only smiled to himself but said nothing of the matter.

"People say I am well-preserved, but they have not seen you. You say you were ten years of age when we came to Rivendell, so that would mean you are seventy one right now, but you do not look a day over thirty." - the Halfling suddenly hit his forehead and let out a laugh - "But of course! How could I have forgotten! Gandalf mentioned earlier you are the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. That would make you the Heir of Númenór, for they are blessed with longer years than ordinary Men. That also means you must be the Heir of Isildur, and to the throne of Gondor."

Aragorn looked at Arwen meaningfully before turning his gaze back towards Bilbo.

"You are well-learned for a Halfling. Usually your folk do not know much of the matters happening outside their comfortable underground homes," remarked the Ranger.

Bilbo nodded and settled down more comfortably on the bench. 

"Indeed, you are right," he agreed with a sigh. "I desire to learn more about the world outside of the Shire, so I have spent long hours in libraries researching topics that interest me. When I was still in Hobbiton, I often ventured out to speak with travellers passing the outskirts of the Shire to ask for news. Most were surprised a Hobbit wanted to know of the world outside the Shire, but did not hesitate to tell me more. I also have learned to write and speak both Quenya and Sindarin, and have taught my nephew a bit as well. 

"There are few Hobbits who take interest in the world surrounding us, however, no one but me has knowledge to this extent. The knowledge, though, comes at a price, as amongst Hobbits I am occasionally called queer and their respect for me has lessened since I came back from Erebor all those years ago. Only children and few adults believe my adventures are real."

Bilbo laughed at the end of his speech. The Halfling took out his pipe and lit it, blowing out a big smoke ring a few moments after inhaling. Gandalf made his smoke cloud in the shape of a dragon and blew it through the ring. At that, Bilbo let out a delighted gasp and burst into a fit of laughter.

"Bilbo, would you care to take a walk with me? I would like to hear more of your journey to Dale with the Dwarves," proposed the Wizard and Bilbo nodded, standing up from the bench.

"Thank you for conversing with me, Lady Arwen," said the Halfling, then turning to face the Ranger. "It was an honour to meet you, Lord Aragorn. I hope that one day, the crownless again shall be King."

Aragorn put his hand on his heart and bowed his head. Bilbo mirrored the gesture. He then walked away with Gandalf. Before they had gone out of earshot, Aragorn heard the Wizard tell the Halfling his words could be very well suited for a poem.

Aragorn turned to Arwen and smiled. The _Elleth_ , however, giggled happily and pulled the man into a tight hug. The Ranger put his arms around the woman, one of them touching her hair and other holding her waist. They stayed in the embrace for a few minutes.

At last, Arwen pulled away. She brushed a stray hair out of Aragorn's face, a mischievous glint appearing in her moon-grey eyes. She jumped up from the bench and stood, looking at the Ranger.

" _Aphado nin, melamin_ ," said the _Elleth_ , pulling the Man up from the bench. _(Follow me, my love)_

Aragorn grasped the maiden's hand more securely and let her lead him away.

The couple walked into a grassy field and Arwen dropped the Man's hand. Aragorn noticed two swords leaning against a nearby tree, one of them being his own and the other Arwen's. The woman grabbed both swords and threw one to Aragorn, who caught it in his hand. The Elf unsheathed her sword and motioned the Ranger to do so as well.

"Have you learnt anything new during the time we have not seen each other?" asked Arwen in Sindarin. "Or will I still best you?"

Aragorn attacked swiftly but his attack was blocked by the _Elleth_ 's sword, making a loud clang. The man circled around her carefully and tried to find an opening to attack, but was unsuccessful.. 

"Do not even try to use this tactic on her, Estel, for I taught you this move and that means Arwen also knows it," laughed a voice and Aragorn turned around for a moment, only to discover the newcomer was Elrohir.

The sudden appearance of Elrohir, however, gave Arwen enough time to stealthily approach Aragorn. When the Ranger turned his head back to the fight, he found himself with a sword on his throat. The Man had no other option but to surrender and drop his sword, for he had been defeated. The _Elleth_ giggled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. But Aragorn would not let himself be bested so easily, as he quickly dodged the woman's blade and picked her up in a bridal style. The maiden's blade fell down into the grass with a quiet thump. Arwen let out a pitched yelp and put her arms around the Man, trying to balance herself. 

"Estel, you do not fight fairly," exclaimed Elrohir with a laugh.

Aragorn did not answer, but stood, gazing into Arwen's eyes. The woman smiled sweetly and slowly closed the distance between them. They were met in a slow passionate kiss. 

After separating, the Ranger finally let the _Elleth_ get down on her own two feet. She picked up and sheathed her blade. The maiden then stood straight and fixed her dress and hairstyle. Aragorn gazed at her lovingly. He then picked up his sword from the grass and put it into its sheath.

" _Le vaethor veleg, melamin_ ," complimented the Man and Arwen's cheeks flushed in delight. _(You are a mighty warrior, my love)_

A mischievous glint appeared in Aragorn's eyes.

"However, you were not able to beat me," he added in a cheeky tone while strapping the sheath to his belt.

The woman raised her eyebrow and hit the Ranger's shoulder. Aragorn laughed at his beloved's expression while he rubbed his now throbbing shoulder.

"Sister, while you two are adorable, I did not come here to just pass the time. Father has sent for you, he wants you to meet him in his study," Elrohir spoke in Sindarin and the couple turned to him.

"Very well," replied Arwen and tossed her sword to Aragorn, who successfully caught it. " _Melamin_ , please take this to my chamber." _(My love)_

The woman kissed the Ranger's cheek before turning and leaving the field with her brother.

  
  


A few days later, Gandalf and Aragorn decided to set out in search of Gollum once again. They had decided to try their luck once again in the vales of Anduin, and even talked about venturing into the wilds of Rhovanion.

On the morning of the hunters' departure, Bilbo approached Aragorn in the courtyard of the Last Homely House, where the Ranger was tightening the straps of his bag.

"I was struck with great inspiration on the day we met," said Bilbo, fiddling with his thumbs in a nervous manner. "I decided to compose this for you:

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

I hope my little poem brings you light wherever your journey takes you, Estel. You are our hope in these dark times."

Aragorn smiled and thanked the Halfling. He heaved the bag onto his shoulders and turned to look at Gandalf. The Wizard, however, was eyeing Elrond, who had quietly approached during the recital.

"That was one mighty poem, Master Baggins," remarked the Elven-lord. "It was not your first, was it? If you do not mind, I would be most happy if you recited more of your work during the parties in the Hall of Fire."

Bilbo flushed in delight and nodded. Elrond turned his gaze upon the two hunters.

"I wish you good luck on your journey and may no harm come to you," he said. "The doors of the Last Homely House will always be welcome to you."


	15. The Last Goodbye

Over the past four years, Gandalf and Aragorn had hunted for Gollum in intervals, for both men had countless other duties they needed to do simultaneously. They had ventured into the thick forests and grassy plains of Rhovanion, ran in the wide green fields of Rohan, and even climbed the White Mountains. But to no avail, as they did not find the creature. 

Due to Aragorn's numerous adventures, he had not seen his mother in over twenty five years. For a few years after Aragorn had become betrothed to Arwen, Gilraen, against the Elves' wishes, had moved back to her home village in Eriador to live near her people.

At last, the Ranger had found time to visit his mother. He arrived in the village on a chilly morning in autumn. The village was not big, as only a few people, mostly elders and women with their young children, lived there. Aragorn passed small fields, dormant because of the cold, and animal pens with cows, pigs and horses on his way to the homestead. The houses were made out of light wood and had straw roofs. Only few people besides children who were playing in the first snow were outside, and they greeted him as he passed them, for he, being the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, was well known to all Dúnedain.

Suddenly, a door of the farthest house in the village flew open and Gilraen came out of it. She locked eyes with her son and rushed towards him. Aragorn pulled his mother into a strong embrace. A few moments later, she stepped back and looked at the Man adoringly. Aragorn smiled back at her and kissed her forehead.

"I hear you have done many noble deeds since the time we last met, my son," exclaimed Gilraen. "You have grown into a strong man like your father once was."

Aragorn nodded sadly at the mention of his father. He did not have vivid memories of Arathorn, as he had been only two years of age when he got shot by an Orc. Elladan and Elrohir had told him many stories of their hunting trips with his father, as they had been close friends with him when he was still alive, and also witnessed his last moments.

Gilraen had aged since the Ranger had last seen her. Even being akin to Dúnedain could not save her from the waning of Men. Her once luscious and ginger hair had mostly turned to a light shade of grey, but it was still in a long, though, thinner than it had once been, braid. Her strong hands bore deep wrinkles and sometimes betrayed her, for they were suited for heavy lifting no more. She wore a long beige dress that came up to her calves, and had a dark blue tunic on top.

"Come on into the house, my son," said Gilraen, taking Aragorn's wrist and pulling him inside.

The house itself was a small one, not unlike the others. A fire was burning, emitting warmth into the crisp autumn air. Two armchairs were pushed to face it, and one of them had a blanket on it. A table with a bench lined the left wall, and a young woman was sitting on it. In the far corner of the room laid a small wooden bed, which had a thick woollen blanket and some furs on it.

Gilraen looked at the woman sitting, "Gwedhiel, this is my son, Aragorn," - Aragorn politely bowed his head at the woman - "my son, this is Gwedhiel, she helps me with my daily chores and keeps me company, for my bones have become weary and I am lonely."

"Mother, I apologize for visiting you so little, but I have been busy in the South, and I seldom come to these lands any more," said the Man.

Gilraen laughed and waved her hand in a dismissing manner, "It is alright, Estel. You are a very busy man and I have plenty of company here. But let us sit down now. You simply must tell me more about your deeds in the South."

So Aragorn nodded and sat down into an armchair, and his mother sat across him. He told her of the hunting of Gollum, his journeys beyond Gondor, and of the new friends he had met on the road. When he, at last, finished his story, Gilraen, in turn, spoke of her life in the village.

  
  


Aragorn stayed at the village for two days. But then it was time for him to leave, for he had work waiting to be done in the South. Before leaving, he came to his mother, who was standing on the threshold of her house. She pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders as a gust of wind blew through the door.

"This is our last meeting, Estel, my son. I have been in care of Elves for so long, but I am still one of lesser Men. The age grows darker, and I cannot face the evil that now gathers upon Middle-earth. I shall leave here soon," declared Gilraen solemnly.

Aragorn gazed at his mother in a comforting manner and fixed the blanket on her shoulders.

"Yet there might be light beyond this darkness," he replied and smiled. "And I would have you see it before you depart from this land."

" _ Ónen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim _ ," whispered Gilraen and hugged her son one last time.  _ (I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself.) _

Aragorn left the village with a heavy heart. He turned South and crossed the Misty Mountains from the Gap of Rohan, passing into Rhovanion.

Gilraen lived the last of her days in solitude. She died before the next spring.

  
  


Aragorn was summoned to Rivendell by Elrond a few weeks after Gilraen's death. He was accompanied by Halbarad and Elgaborn. Together, they walked to a secluded part of the gardens surrounding the Last Homely House. The path was lined by small blue flowers, the forget-me-nots, and trees party blocked out the setting Sun, making the air pleasantly chilly. White lamps lit up the floor of the garden. In the middle, however, stood a white marble statue. Upon approach, Aragorn realized it depicted Gilraen sitting with her hands in her lap. The man felt his eyes stinging as he read the Tengwar epitaph in the bottom of the statue.

_ Gilraen _

_ Ónen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim _

Aragorn gasped and approached the statue. He gently caressed its cheek and brushed his fingers over the last words his mother had spoken to him. The other two men stood a few steps behind him and looked at the grieving man woefully.

"Gilraen was a good mother and wife. It is a pity she had to leave us so soon," lamented Halbarad.

"The spring after Gilraen came to our village, flowers bloomed brighter than ever. She used to make beautiful wreaths out of them and dance on the surrounding fields, singing to anyone who would listen. She was like a breath of fresh air, a new start to our village," added Elgaborn.

The two Rangers looked upon the statue one last time before leaving, letting Aragorn be alone with his mother.

Aragorn, meanwhile, fell to his knees before the grave. He rested his hand on the words and slid his fingers over the engraving. Tears fell freely from his eyes and he looked at the ground, letting them flow. He did not bother to hide his grief.

" _ Savo hîdh neñ gurth, naneth, _ " cried the man and grasped the earth before his knees.  _ (Have peace in death, mother) _

Suddenly, the Ranger felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up through his tears and saw Elrond, who was smiling at him gently.

"She was brought here by my people a few days after her passing, and buried here in this very place, under the statue. Gilraen spoke those words the day she first came to the valley with you, and gave the inspiration for your name, Estel. I am guessing she told the words to you, as well," - the Ranger nodded and looked at the grave once again - "I will not say do not weep, for not all tears are evil," said the Elven-lord.

Aragorn stood and embraced him, burying his face into the Elf's shoulder. Elrond gingerly put his arms around the Man's shoulders and pulled him to his chest, letting him cry. He patted his back and whispered reassurances in Sindarin.


	16. The Woodland Realm

The trail of Gollum eventually led Gandalf and Aragorn into the dark and gloomy forest of Mirkwood. They walked stealthily beneath the ancient trees, being careful not to lose the path, for if they did so, they would never find it again. But to no avail, as the forest was malicious, and moved to trick them into straying off of the path. And so it happened, on the eve of the second day, the duo could not find the road any more. However, Gandalf and Aragorn did not give up, but stayed in Gollum's footsteps.

The hunters eventually found themselves in a small, bowl-like, valley, surrounded with steep edges on three sides, and the fourth one collapsed, the loose rocks forming an unsteady stair. It had less trees than other parts of the forest, and had a small pond in the middle. Upon closer inspection, they found small grey fish swimming in the water, and Aragorn reckoned Gollum had stopped there for some time. The creature, according to the signs, however, had climbed up the wall and headed north-east after eating. It seemed as if he had been escaping from something, as Aragorn found a fish skeleton, which had once been half-eaten, but thrown aside before finishing, lying on the northern side of the pool. Aragorn strained his eyes to see the footprints Gollum had left. To the duo's misfortune, it was getting so dark he could barely distinguish the footprints they were following from the moss covering the soggy ground, and they were forced to stop for the night.

"Gandalf, shall we risk some light?" asked Aragorn, looking around them warily.

The Wizard nodded mutely and covered his staff head with the palm of his hand. He muttered a spell and took away his hand, revealing a small blue flame.

But the Ranger put his arm onto the Wizard's hand, signalling him to put out the light at once. He unsheathed his sword and listened. The only sound he could hear was the rustling of leaves and the sound of Gandalf and his breathing, but the steps following them had quietened. Gandalf quickly extinguished his staff and looked around curiously.

"It has been a while since I was last in this part of Mirkwood, but to my reckoning, we must be approaching the Elven-king's Halls now," he whispered and Aragorn nodded.

Suddenly a band of Elves appeared from behind the edges of the valley and pointed their bows at the two men. They spoke to each other rapidly in a dialect of Sindarin the Ranger could barely understand. Gandalf, however, grinned, and stepped forward. The Wizard gazed upon a blonde  _ Ellon _ standing on a nearby cliff sticking out from the ground and bowed his head.  _ (Male Elf) _

" _ Le suilon, Legolas Thranduilion _ ," he said.  _ (I greet you, Legolas, son of Thranduil) _

The Elf jumped down from the cliff, landing graciously on the ground in front of them.

" _ Mae l'ovannen, Mithrandir _ ," he replied, putting his hand on his heart and bowing his head, " _ Ma den? _ "  _ (Well met, Mithrandir; Who is he?) _

" _ Aragorn Arathornion i eneth dîn _ ," replied Gandalf and the Ranger gave a court nod, as he had realized he was in presence of King Thranduil's son.  _ (His name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn) _

The Man saw the Elf's expression falter for a moment, as if he had recognised the name, but he seemed to brush it off, for his face quickly returned to its previous stern state. 

Aragorn took his time to look at the Elf-prince properly. Legolas had blonde hair which was braided neatly to stop it from getting in the way while doing his daily chores. His blue eyes displayed no emotion and his mouth was in a small frown. The  _ Ellon _ was wearing a dark green and brown outfit to blend in with the surroundings, accompanied by knee-high leather boots. He had a quiver filled with lean arrows on his back and in his hands he held a mighty longbow. He also had a sword and a knife strapped to his hip. The prince's companions' attires were similar.

"According to the King's orders, I must take you to our halls, and there you shall meet him and answer before his throne," continued Legolas in Sindarin and Gandalf nodded.

The party of Elves surrounded the two hunters, and together, they walked towards the Elven-king's Halls.

The company reached the Wooden Halls within the first hour of the night. They crossed the grey bridge which separated the Halls from the rest of the forest under the light of  _ Helluin _ and  _ Borgil _ . The tall gates opened before them.

Aragorn looked around as he walked. The walls of the palace were made out of dark stone, carven right into the mountain and decorated with rich patterns. Many passages extended out of the wide entrance hall and the corridors were lit with torches. The path they walked, however, was lit with long chandeliers made to resemble orange crystals. The company passed into a huge hall, which extended further down into the dungeons and numerous wine and food cellars. The actual floor of the palace was a garden, filled with colourful moss and some trees, and a small river ran through it. Occasional patches of light found their way through the roof. Bridges connected the different parts of the palace to each other.

The Elves led Aragorn and Gandalf over a wide bridge and entered the throne room, which was located in the centre of the hall on a circular platform. On the end of it, on top of a flight of stairs made out of light stone, stood a throne with large moose antlers decorating it. 

On top of the throne sat a fair-haired Elf with a crown of woodland flowers sitting on his head. However, what caught Aragorn's eye, was the necklace the King was wearing. The pendant had gorgeous silver patterns and was decorated with shining white pearls which reflected the light coming off the chandeliers. The King wore a grey robe which flowed behind him as he stood and gracefully walked down the stairs to meet his guests. The sleeves of his robe were auburn and his long slender fingers displayed numerous rings. He bore no weapons besides a small blade strapped to his hip. King Thranduil's face, like his son's, displayed no emotion. Only upon closer inspection did Aragorn see an inquisitive glint in the Elf's sea-grey eyes.

Gandalf raised his eyebrow as his eyes landed on the necklace, "I see the Elf-friend's gift is not being unused."

The Elf let his eyes drop onto the pendant around his neck before nodding, but he chose to remain silent on the topic.

"What brings you here,  _ Mithrandir _ ?" asked the King instead as he slowly circled around the two men and turned his piercing gaze upon Aragorn. "I hear you have chosen the Heir of Isildur as your company. What might two mighty men such as yourselves do in my forest?"

Aragorn found the Elven-king's eyes on him as he talked, so the Man stood proud and willed his face to stay impassive to the Elf's keen attention. To the Ranger's pleasant surprise, the King was speaking Common Speech, not Sindarin, like he had expected. For the Elves of the Woodland Realm, unlike any other Elves, traded with the Men of Dale, and the Men of Laketown before it was destroyed in the fires of Smaug, so they needed to know Westron for better communication.

"You are correct, o King of the Woodland Realm," replied Gandalf courtly. "I am indeed accompanied by the Heir of Isildur. This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Chieftain of the Dùnedain. His excellent tracking skills have led us here, for we are trailing a strange creature. Gollum is his name."

At the end of the Wizard's speech, Legolas stepped forward, his face displaying white fury. 

He turned to Gandalf, "Does the creature you speak of look bony, its ribs sticking out? Does it make a gurgling sound, almost as if it was choking? Does it eat fish and young birds and animals, and prefers night over day?"

Gandalf whipped his head towards the Prince and let out a surprised gasp.

"It is the very creature you speak of, my Prince," he exclaimed and Legolas nodded thoughtfully.

Aragorn and Gandalf exchanged a meaningful glance, relieved that their hunt had finally ended.

"The creature you call Gollum terrorised the animals and birds of this forest for a long time. It emptied the ponds from fish, and even dared to lurk near this very palace. We tried to capture it many times," continued the young  _ Ellon _ . "But to no avail. Our guards have not seen him since the start of last year. Wherever it went, it is not here anymore."

The hunters' faces fell at Legolas' words. Aragorn huffed angrily but stood silent.

"It is most unfortunate he is gone, my Lord," admitted the Wizard. "Alas, our hunt must continue. We cannot give up before Gollum has been found and captured."

Legolas turned towards King Thranduil and spoke with determination in his voice, " _ Adar _ , you must let me join them. I want to capture that wretched creature and imprison him. He has done no good in our lands."  _ (Father) _

"Besides," he added. "Lord Aragorn and  _ Mithrandir _ do not know the correct paths to exit this forest. I, on the other hand, know these parts of the woods better than anyone in this part of the world."

The King looked at his son in silence, and pondered his brave request. Both the father and the son faced each other proudly, their eyes locked in a silent battle. At last, Thranduil withdrew his gaze and sighed.

"Alas, you may go,  _ ionneg _ ," he said and Legolas smiled briefly in a relieved manner. "But only on one condition. You must not go further than Dale, and you will return to me at once after departing from  _ Mithrandir _ ."  _ (My son) _

Legolas nodded obediently and signalled a ginger-haired  _ Elleth _ to come forth. The woman stepped out from the shadows and stood looking at the Prince expectantly.  _ (Female Elf) _   
"Tauriel, I want you to take over my captain duties while I am gone," declared the  _ Ellon _ in Silvan Elvish and she gave a court nod.

Aragorn could not help but notice she was passing an object from one hand to another while she was listening to Legolas' request. It seemed to be a small black stone.

"I will not fail you, my Prince," she replied and bowed both to the Prince and King before retreating to the barracks to get ready for her patrolling duty.

Thranduil looked after the  _ Elleth _ pitifully but turned his eyes back to his guests almost at once. He then raised his hands in a welcoming manner.

"Surely you do not want to depart tonight, do you?" he asked with a wide smile and Gandalf nodded quickly. "Very well, you will depart in the morning and spend the night in the comforts of my Halls." 

  
  


Next morning, the hunting trio stood in front of King Thranduil. The Elves had generously filled Gandalf and Aragorn's bags with all kinds of food and refilled their water bottles with clear water from the river. The Ranger had also been given new arrows to fill his almost empty quiver.

"I will turn back as soon as we have reached Dale," promised Legolas once again and Thranduil nodded approvingly.

"Farewell, and good luck," said Thranduil to Gandalf and Aragorn, "may my son lead you out of this forest safely."

Gandalf thanked him politely. The company, led by Legolas, left the Elven-king's halls. After exiting the gates, they continued their journey east, towards Dale and Erebor.


	17. The Hunt Has Ended

Aragorn stopped abruptly as he noticed Gollum lying motionlessly under a thorny bush. He seemed to be fast asleep. The Ranger slowly pulled the thin Galadhrim rope from his bag and held it in his hands. He approached the sleeping creature soundlessly.

"He took it from us!" snarled Gollum suddenly and Aragorn froze in his tracks. "He took the precious from us. Our birthday gift! The sneaky little Hobbit must pay for what They have done to us! I will make the thief suffer for this."

But fortunately he was only talking in his sleep. The Man exhaled in relief and continued walking towards Gollum, rope in his hands ready for use. The creature was writhing in his sleep, muttering incoherent sentences under his breath. He was occasionally letting out wet coughs and wheezes. Aragorn almost pitied him.

Aragorn stood in front of the creature and looked upon him. But he hesitated for a moment too long, for Gollum opened his eyes and looked at him in alarm. His gaze suddenly turned furious and he jumped at the Ranger, trying to get a hold of his neck to strangle him. The Man, however, managed to capture the creature's stringy wrists and held onto them tightly with one hand, while trying to manage the rope with the other one. Gollum stopped moving with surprise when the rope touched his neck. This gave Aragorn enough time to tie a secure knot. The creature had at last been captured.

As soon as Gollum realized what had happened, he let out a piercing wail, throwing himself onto the ground. He tried to tug at the rope but the Man held onto it tightly.

"It hurts us, precious, it burns us! Take it off," cried the creature.

"Silence, you slimy mongler," hissed Aragorn through his teeth and looked around warily, almost expecting the servants of Sauron to suddenly appear in the distance.

But the bog stayed empty. The Ranger pulled Gollum behind him as he started walking towards the northern border of the Dead Marshes.

"Where are you taking us, preciousss?" wondered Gollum as he trailed behind Aragorn. "What did we do to deserve such cruelty? What did poor precious do to be treated in such an evil manner? They hurt us, they tortured us. Gollum, Gollum!"

The Ranger had a feeling the slimy creature was not talking to him anymore. He listened with interest as Gollum wailed. He understood there might be more to the story, but knew it would be no use for him to question Gollum's rambling. Instead, the Man thought back to the place where he had first come across his tracks.

  
  


_ Aragorn had found a long staircase up the mountains of Ephel Duath. The climb took him most of the day as the stairs were treacherous, bits of them often crumbling under the Ranger's feet, and uneven. Upon reaching the top, he came across a cave entrance. The air inside the cave was stuffy, and smelled foul and evil. The walls were smooth to the touch, almost as if they had been polished by frequent touching. Webs were strung along the path, but Aragorn could see no spiders. He continued walking, but held his sword at the ready. _

_ Suddenly the Man heard a sickening crunch. He looked down at his feet and realized he had stepped on an old Orc skull. He looked ahead and saw hundreds of corpses, some of the rotting and producing an awful stench that made his eyes water. His eyes widened and he turned around at once, intending to get out of the cave immediately. But a low hissing sound made him stop in his tracks. He turned around slowly and bared his sword in front of him. He was faced with a huge black spider. Its huge black eyes bored into his very soul and it bared its poisonous needle. _

_ "Welcome to your death, little fly," it hissed and charged. _

_ Aragorn turned around and ran, for he knew he may not come out as victorious in that fight. He had gained the lead and was almost outside, but a small treacherous stone made him stumble and almost fall. The Man swiftly regained his balance and ran onwards. At last, he made it out of the cave. _

_ Upon turning, he realized the spider was not far from him. He readied his sword for a fight. The spider followed him out of the cave and stood, ready to pounce on him. But the Sun came out of its hiding place from behind the clouds and shined on them. To Aragorn's surprise, the beast hissed and swiftly retreated into its cave. _

_ The Ranger sighed and sheathed his sword once again. He was about to start his journey downwards, when he came across footprints going towards the stairs. Upon closer inspection, he discovered they were Gollum's, and they were only a few days old! He had not managed to pick up the creature's trail since he and Gandalf lost it near Dale eight years ago. The discovery filled him with new-found motivation. Aragorn followed the footprints down from the stairs, through the forests of North Ithilien, and into the Dead Marshes. _

  
  


Aragorn heard his name being called and he stopped walking. He looked into the direction the voice was coming from and stood his ground. The Man did not have to wait long, for only a few moments later, Legolas, who was smiling brightly, appeared in front of him. Gollum hissed as he saw the Prince, but the  _ Ellon _ paid no mind to him.  _ (Male Elf) _

Legolas put his hand onto his heart and bowed his head in a welcoming manner. "It is wonderful to see you again, Aragorn," he said, using the Common Tongue.

Aragorn, however, chuckled, and pulled the Elf into a warm embrace. The two men stayed in each other's arms for a few moments before separating. Legolas stepped back and glared at Gollum pointedly.

"But alas, let us not stand here aimlessly.  _ Mithrandir _ told me you will come today, but he did not name the hour you were to arrive. I will accompany you to the dungeons where you shall meet the Wizard yourself, then I must depart, for I have been neglecting my captain duties for this," the Prince spoke, and Aragorn nodded.

The Man tugged Gollum to his feet and they started moving through the forest once again.

"It is wonderful to see you, Gandalf," said Aragorn upon finding Gandalf sitting in the guardroom.

The Wizard grinned and let out a puff of smoke, "The pleasure is all mine, my dear boy."

Aragorn sat down beside the other man and took out his own pipe, filling it with pipe-weed. Gandalf offered his pipe to light it, and he accepted it with a thankful smile. The two men continued to smoke in comfortable silence.

"Gandalf," exclaimed Aragorn, successfully gaining his friend's attention. "How could you possibly know I had found Gollum? I did not meet another human soul on my way from the Dead Marshes to Dale."

But Gandalf only grinned, his eyes glinting mysteriously. He put out his pipe and knocked it against the edge of the table a few times to get the remainder of the pipe-weed out. He then proceeded to carefully place his pipe into a special pipe holder in his wooden staff. Aragorn observed the Wizard's actions with an amused smile.

Gandalf chuckled, "You underestimate the strength of the gaze of an Eagle, my friend-"

Aragorn let out a surprised gasp, as he had, indeed, seen an Eagle flying far above his head during his journey. Although, he had thought the Eagle was searching for food.

"A messenger from Lothlórien met me on my way from Minas Tirith, and I was told an Eagle had come and told the Elves about the success of your adventure, and that you were headed towards this very place. I at once set out to ride North, and only arrived two days before you," continued Gandalf.

At the mention of Lothlórien, Aragorn's thoughts briefly wandered into the Golden Wood, and to his beloved, who he had not seen for a few years. The Wizard shook his head fondly as he noticed the Man's glazed eyes, but he did not interrupt him. Aragorn snapped out of his trance and looked at Gandalf once again.

"You say you were coming back from Minas Tirith. What business did you have in the White City?" asked the Man. 

"It dawned upon me that we would not need to find Gollum to know if Bilbo's ring is the One Ring. I remembered the words Saruman spoke in the White Council.

" 'The Nine, the Seven, and the Three," he told us, "had each their proper gem. Not so the One. It was round and unadorned, as it were one of the lesser rings; but its maker set marks upon it that the skilled, maybe, could still see and read.'

"But he did not say what marks were depicted on the ring. I am not sure even he knows, or does he? Who even does know? The first obvious answer is the maker himself, Sauron, knows. But then I realized, Isildur would also know, since he cut the Ring from its maker's own finger. So I set out towards Minas Tirith, hoping the Citadel's archives would help me on my quest.

"In former days, the members of the White Council had been welcome in the White City, and Saruman most of all. But less welcome than in the olden days did I feel in the halls of Lord Denethor, and only begrudgingly did he permit me to search his scrolls and books.

" 'If indeed you look only, as you say, for records of ancient days, and the beginnings of the City, read on!' he said. 'For to me what was is less dark than what is to come, and that is my care. But unless you have more skill even than Saruman, who has studied here long, you will find naught that is not well known to me, who am master of the lore of this City.'

"So spoke Lord Denethor. But yet there lay such scrolls in his hoards that even a few of the lore-masters could now read, for their scripts and language have become too dark for later Men. There I found a script that none, save by Saruman, have read, for it was written by Isildur. He declared the One Ring to be an heirloom of the house of Elendil, and the North Kingdom, but records of it were to be kept in Gondor, where the heirs of Elendil dwell.

"A description of the Ring as Isildur had found it followed. When I read these words, I knew my quest had at last ended," recalled Gandalf.

Aragorn mulled over the Wizard's words for some time. His thoughts went back to Minas Tirith, and he recounted his words to Steward Ecthelion, and Lord Denethor's malice at his words. His mind then wandered to the creature sitting in the dungeons, and he gazed upon Gandalf once again.

"What becomes of the creature Gollum?" asked Aragorn. "I do not wish to be in his company any longer, he stank and was covered in green slime when I found him. He will never love me, I am afraid, for I was not kind to him. I had to guard him day and night, and I was forced to gag him at the start, trying to tame him by not giving him food or drink. The journey seemed never-ending, and I wish to never endure his company again."

Gandalf let out a laugh and shook his head, "I would have you be in his presence one last time if you would not mind. I must find out more about Gollum's involvement with the Ring, and I would like you to be here."

The Ranger's face dropped and he sighed defeatedly.

"I feared you would ask me to do that," he admitted. "But I will come with you, and put aside my disgust for the creature for some time."

The Wizard nodded at him gratefully and moved to stand up, but was stopped by Aragorn.

"Gandalf, I fear Gollum has been captured in the clutches of the Enemy for some time, at least. He kept muttering things like 'They hurt us' and screaming agonisingly in his sleep," worried the Man and Gandalf averted his gaze thoughtfully.

"Thank you for bringing this to my notice, my friend."

The two men headed to the Elven-king's dungeons only a few hours after their initial meeting. Aragorn stared at the slimy creature disdainfully, not bothering to mask his obvious dislike for him.

Gandalf motioned the guard to unlock the cell door, and they stepped in. The Wizard dismissed the guard with a look and the three were left alone. Upon seeing Aragorn, Gollum let out a whine and grovelled into the corner, hiding his face into his bony hands. Gandalf heavily sat down onto a bench and leaned on his staff, his black eyes looking at the creature curiously under his long eyebrows.

"Gollum, how did that Ring of yours come into your possession?"

"Our birthday gift, gollum, gollum! The horrible Baggins stole it from us, and he must pay for it," cried the creature and let out a stream of gurgling noises.

Aragorn prepared himself for a long night.

Aragorn fell onto the bed and exhaled heavily. They had interrogated Gollum for nearly eighteen hours, and managed to learn some valuable information in-between the whimpers and incoherent whines. At the start, it was very hard to get the creature to talk to them, for he was crouched in the corner of the cell, refusing to say a word to them. Only after some coaxing did he start to talk.

The duo had found out that Gollum had once lived in a small village on the banks of River Anduin, and he was called Sméagol, or Trahald. They realized that Gollum had once been a Stoor, one of the three early Halfling-types, who, unlike the Halflings living in the Shire, liked fishing and boating, and lived near the Gladden Fields. 

Gollum and his cousin Déagol had gone fishing on Gollum's birthday. Déagol had found the Ring after he had been pulled out of the boat by a large fish. Sméagol, already bewitched by the power of the Ring, demanded Déagol to give it to him as his birthday present. But Déagol refused, so Sméagol attacked him and strangled him to death. He claimed the Ring as his own and became its fourth bearer after Sauron, Isildur and Déagol.

The power of the Ring corrupted Sméagol, and he started using it to spy after people and steal from them. He often wheezed and coughed wetly, resulting in his family calling him 'Gollum'. At last, his grandmother, being the Matriarch of the family banished him from the house, and he went to live under the cold and damp Misty Mountains, as he had become scared of the light of the Sun.

Gollum did not blame himself for any of his actions, and ferociously hated his family for disowning him. He called the Ring by 'My Precious' and 'Birthday Present'. On the mention of Bilbo, his eyes started glowing angrily and he started thrashing around his corner, muttering angrily.

True to Aragorn's suspicions, Gollum had been captured by the Enemy. He had been tortured for years in the dark tower of Barad-dur. The enemy had learned the name 'Baggins' and he now knew of the Shire, but hopefully did not know its location.

Gandalf had departed at once after the interrogation ended, saying he needed to ride to Hobbiton at once to do the final test, although both men knew the Ring the Halfling was hiding in his comfortable home was indeed Sauron's ring. Aragorn, in turn, promised to start his journey to Esteldín first thing in the morning, and give the orders to double the guard on the borders of the Shire.

He fell asleep thinking of his oncoming journey.


	18. The Road Before Imladris

_ "My friend, I have just returned from Hobbiton. The final test has been done, and the ring is indeed Sauron's ring. Frodo Baggins is to leave Hobbiton for Buckland in September, and I shall meet him in the Inn of the Prancing Pony, from where I will lead him to Imladris into Lord Elrond's care." _

  
  


Aragorn mulled over Gandalf's words as he sat in the corner of the common-room of the Prancing Pony. In May, the Ranger had taken off from the Wizard with a light heart, as he had thought all was to be taken care of. But Eru had other plans. Only a few weeks later, news of the  _ Nazgûl _ , the Ringwraiths, crossing the Gap of Rohan into Eriador had reached Gandalf. People spoke of Black Riders, who were searching for the Shire, and asking for the name 'Baggins'. But Aragorn was not able to offer a hand to help, as he had gone off to a journey of his own.

For many weeks, Aragorn had received no news of the Wizard. When he returned from his errand, he heard disturbing news. Gandalf had gone missing and the Nine Horsemen had been seen in the lands surrounding Bree. The Ranger knew the fate of the quest was now lying on his shoulders.

Aragorn observed from his table as three Halflings stepped into the common-room. The innkeeper went out of his way to introduce them to the majority of the Bree-folk in the hall. The Halfling named Frodo Underhill had been quickly surrounded by Bree-halflings, who were enthusiastically telling him of the history of the hobbits of Bree-land. Aragorn looked at the gathering in silent amusement. The other two Halflings, however, had quickly gained the attention of Men and Dwarves, and were speaking animatedly. The Ranger stretched his legs and took a sip from his tankard, then put his pipe back to his lips. He listened to the two younger Halflings warily, fearing the topic of their conversation was going to change to more delicate subjects.

Suddenly he noticed that Frodo Underhill's gaze had fallen on him, and he lifted his eyes to look at the Halfling inquisitively. He observed as the Halfling got the attention of the innkeeper, no doubt asking the burly man about him. He chuckled quietly as Butterbur glanched towards him and replied to the Halfling. The innkeeper, however, was whisked away by another patron only moments later, and Frodo had been left alone once again.

Aragorn motioned the Halfling to join him with a swipe of his hand and a friendly nod. To his surprise, he actually got up and approached the Man. The Ranger threw back his hood as Frodo sat down.

"My name is Strider," said Aragorn with an amused smile. "I am very pleased to meet you Master Underhill, if Butterbur did not mess up your name."

The Halfling gave him a bewildered look, "He did not."

"Well, Master Underhill," continued the Ranger, now looking towards the two younger Halflings who were surrounded by a group of people. "If I were you, I would stop your young friends from talking so merrily. Drinking loosens their tongue too much. They may talk of more… delicate subjects. They must not forget this is not the Shire, queer folk linger about. Not everyone has friendly intentions around here."

Aragorn observed Frodo as he looked at his two companions with newfound wariness. He noticed the Halfling's glance was suddenly drawn to the younger Halfling, who had launched into a comic account of Bilbo Baggins' birthday party. He was giving an imitation of the Speech, and was drawing near to the mysterious disappearance. Frodo's eyes displayed a sudden flash of fear. Aragorn leaned near his ear.

"You better do something to stop him from talking!" he whispered and the Halfling nodded, at once jumping up from his seat.

To the Ranger's surprise, Frodo jumped on a table and started giving an impromptu speech. While he was talking, Aragorn noticed he was fingering something in his pocket, a nervous habit, most likely. Cold fear came upon the Man. He knew what the Halfling was handling, and hoped the Ring would not betray him and suddenly slip around his finger, revealing his true identity to the crowd that was now eagerly listening to him.

Suddenly the crowd demanded the Halfling to sing them a song. Frodo looked at them dumbfoundedly. He then launched into a ridiculous song about an inn, most likely made by the one and only Bilbo Baggins. Once he had finished, they demanded him to sing it a second time, and he complied. He downed another mug of ale and began once again, capering about on the table. Once he had reached the line 'The cow jumped over the Moon' the second time, he jumped into the air. But he had jumped too vigorously, as he came down onto a tray of mugs and slipped, falling down from the table. The crowd gasped. Frodo had disappeared into thin air! Aragorn cursed under his breath.

The crowd now surrounded the Halfling's bewildered companions, and started asking them about Frodo's sudden disappearance. They thought he was a travelling magician of unknown powers and purpose. However, there was one Bree-lander, who looked at them with a knowing smile that made the Halflings visibly uncomfortable. The man then slipped out of the door, a squint-eyed southerner in his tow.

Aragorn heard a floorboard creak and he looked to his left. He was not surprised to see Frodo standing beside him, his cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment.

"Well?" the Man said in a mocking tone. "Why did you do that? Worse than any of your friends could have said! You have put your foot in it! Or should I say, your finger?"

"I do not know what you mean," answered the Halfling, trying to will his face to stay impartial.

"Oh yes you do," accused Aragorn, "but we had better wait until the uproar has died down. Then, if you please, Mister  _ Baggins _ , I should like a quiet word with you."

Frodo did not spare him a glance, nor reacted to the use of his true name.

"What about?" wondered he.

"A matter of some importance - to us both," Aragorn looked Frodo in the eye as he spoke. "You may hear something to your advantage."

"Very well," replied the Halfling. "I will talk to you later."

"The lesson in caution has been well learned," said Aragorn with a grim smile. "But caution is one thing and wavering is another. You will never get to Rivendell on your own," - he looked at the Halflings' scared faces - "and to trust me is your only chance. You must make up your mind. I will answer some of your questions, if that will help you to decide. But why should you believe my story, if you do not trust me already? Still, here it goes -"

Aragorn stopped talking abruptly as someone knocked on the door. Butterbur stepped in with candles, and behind him trailed Nob, one of the servants of the inn, with cans of hot water. The Ranger withdrew into the dark corner and looked at the unravelling of the encounter.

"Nob, take the water into their rooms!" ordered the innkeeper and shut the door behind him.

"It is like this," the burly man began, looking troubled. "If I have done any harm, please forgive me. I am a busy man, and one thing drives to another. First one thing and then another have jogged from my memory. I hope it is not too late now. You see, I was asked to look for Hobbits coming from the Shire, particularly one by the name of Baggins."

Frodo tried to remain clueless, "And how does this have anything to do with me?"

"You see," the Man replied with a mischievous smile. "I was told that the Hobbit in question would be going by Underhill, and I was given a description which fits quite well."

"Indeed, let us hear it then."

" _ A stout little fellow with red cheeks _ ," Aragorn barely suppressed an amused snort, and the youngest Halfling actually chuckled. "  _ 'That will not help you much, Barley, as that goes for must Hobbits _ , _ ' _ he told me," continued the innkeeper, after glancing at the youngest Halfling. " ' _ But this one is taller than some and fairer than most, and he has a cleft in his chin: perky chap with a bright eye.' _ I apologise, but that is what he said to me."

"He said it? Who is he?" asked Frodo eagerly.

"He is Gandalf, of course," replied Butterbur matter-of-factly. "A wizard, he says he is, but he is a good friend of mine, whether or no. But I do not know what he will say to me when he sees me again. Maybe he will turn my ale sour or make me into a block of wood, I do not know. He can be a bit nasty. But what is done cannot be undone."

Frodo was slowly getting impatient, "Well, what have you done?"

"Where was I?" wondered the innkeeper, snapping his fingers. "Ah yes! Good old Gandalf. Three months ago he walked right into my room without knocking. ' _Barley,'_ he said. ' _Will you do something for me. I need to leave early in the morning.'_ _'Of course, you name it,"_ replied I. _'I need you to bring a message to Shire for me, for I have no time myself. Do you have anyone you can trust who can make the journey?'_ _'I can find someone, tomorrow, or the day after,"_ said I. _'Make it tomorrow.'_ he said and handed me this very letter I have in my hand."

Butterbur took out a letter from his pocket and read the address proudly, "Mr. Frodo Baggins, Bag End, Hobbiton in the Shire."

Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise. The letter dated back to around the time Gandalf had disappeared.

"A letter from Gandalf!" cried Frodo.

"So your name is Baggins after all," teased Butterbur, proud that he had guessed correctly.

"It is," the Halfling replied. "But can you explain to me why you never sent the letter? I hope you came here to tell me that, even though it has taken you a long time to remember."

"I beg your pardon," the innkeeper looked troubled. "Gandalf told me to send it as soon as possible. I put the letter on my safe. But I could not find anyone willing to go to Shire the next day, or the day after that. Then one thing led to another and the letter was forgotten. I am a busy man. If there is any help you need, I will offer it. I promised Gandalf no less.

"  _ 'This friend of mine from Shire, he may be coming this way soon, him and another Hobbit. He will go by the name Underhill. Remember that! But do not ask any questions. If I am not with him, he might be in trouble, and I will be very grateful if you offer him help.'  _ Here you are, and seems like trouble is not far off."

"How do you mean?" asked Frodo.

"The black men," elaborated Barliman with a shudder. "They have been looking for a  _ Baggins _ , and one thing I know, they do not mean well. They came by this Monday, and scared the dogs. But Nob shut the door on them. And then there is this Ranger, Strider, who has been trying to talk to you since you arrived. He tried to get in before you had had your supper."

Aragorn rolled his eyes and stepped into the light, "He is here."

Barliman winced and looked at the Man accusingly. "You! What are you doing here?"

"He is here on my leave," explained Frodo. "He is offering his help."

"I would not trust Rangers if I were you. They seldom come around, bearing strange tales of far-away lands, looking suspicious."

"Then who would you have help them?" huffed Aragorn, looking at the innkeeper pointedly. "A fat man who would not remember his own name if people did not scream it at him every day? They cannot stay in the Prancing Pony Inn forever, and they cannot go back home. Would you protect them from the black men?"

The innkeeper looked like he was about to faint from the Ranger's words.

"I am sorry I cannot explain it," said Frodo regretfully. "But this is a long tale. I myself do not know where the black men come from."

"They come from Mordor, if that still means anything to you, Butterbur," added Aragorn darkly, leaning against a nearby wall.

"Save us!" whispered Butterbur. "I will help you as much as I can. Tonight you will sleep under the roof of the Inn, where you will be protected from… from -"

"The Shadow from the East," supplied the Ranger dryly. "You can help by letting Mr. Underhill stay the night here. And for the love of all good on this Earth, forget the name Baggins, and do not use it again until he is far away."

Barliman nodded dutifully, "I will do just the thing. The Pony will be safe for you tonight. I will ask Nob to bolt the doors in an instance." He paused and looked around in confusion. "But where is your companion, Mr. Brandybuck?"

The Halflings looked among each other.

"He went outside to get fresh air after we had finished supper," Frodo said, sudden anxiety showing on his face. "He should have been back by now."

"I will ask Nob to look for him," promised Butterbur.

He handed the letter to Frodo and turned to exit the room. Before leaving, however, he spared Aragorn one last suspicious glance, and shook his head. He closed the door behind him and his steps echoed in the corridor.

"Well, are you going to open it?" asked Aragorn, glancing at the letter.

  
  


Glorfindel and Aragorn walked in from the gates of Imladris side by side, the two younger Halflings, Meriadoc and Peregrin, following closely behind, and Samwise in the rear pulling Bill the Pony by his reins. He heard the Halflings gasp as the Valley came into the view and smiled to himself. The company walked down from the mountain and further into the valley. They crossed a lean white bridge and walked further along the pathway.

Suddenly a familiar voice yelled Aragorn's name, and he turned in the direction of the voice. Arwen was standing near the entrance to the gardens. She looked breathtaking. She was wearing a long simple lilac dress, its sleeves flowing in the gentle autumnal breeze, and had no shoes. Her raven hair was left unbraided, but a flower crown sat on her head. Arwen's mouth was in a wide smile and she was giving the Ranger a loving gaze.

Aragorn heard Glorfindel laugh and broke his gaze, turning it to the Elf standing beside him.

"Go to her," he said. "I will bring the  _ Periain _ to Lord Elrond myself."  _ (Halflings) _

Aragorn nodded thankfully and bid farewell to the Halflings. However, when he once again, the  _ Elleth _ had suddenly disappeared. The Ranger turned his head back to Glorfindel and raised his eyebrow in confusion. The Elf only laughed and shook his head, motioning him to go with an elegant swipe of his hand.  _ (Female Elf) _

Aragorn walked through the archway of the garden and looked around. He was suddenly pulled back by a swift pair of hands. The Man found himself face-to-face with a smiling Arwen. The maiden let out a giggle and threw her arms around him. The Ranger let out a content sigh and placed his arms on her waist, squeezing it lightly.

" _ Gwannas lû and, melamin _ ," said Aragorn and kissed Arwen's hair. _ (It has been too long, my love) _

The woman pulled back from the embrace and smiled dazzlingly. She put her gentle hand on his cheek and caressed it. Aragorn grinned back and pulled her into a passionate kiss. He had arrived home at last.


End file.
